


Where do we go but nowhere

by Heresetrash



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Consensual, Consensual Sex, Depression, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Slash, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:18:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10688685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heresetrash/pseuds/Heresetrash
Summary: Snape and Lucius fall in love, but being in a same sex relationship in the late seventies, is no easier in the magical community than in the muggle world. They are torn apart by circumstances. Will they ever find back to each other?





	1. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why won't you talk to me?  
> Why won't you just talk to me?  
> There's a universe inside your head  
> Constellations of the things you left unsaid  
> Talk to me
> 
> \- Lauren Aquilina, “Talk to me”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_Autumn 1997._

A small pop was heard in the otherwise quiet evening air, and a dark-haired man with flowing black robes appeared out of nowhere. For a second Severus Snape stood rooted to the ground, his wand at the ready. Realising there were no threats around, he put his wand down and stowed it away. He turned to face a long lane, bordered by wild brambles to the left and a high hedge to the right, with a large mansion at the end of it: the Malfoy manor. Snape drew a deep breath before slowly starting down the seemingly endless lane. He did not want to be there. In fact, he had tried to come up with several excuses for not coming, but none of them held water. You did not _not_ show up to a meeting with the Dark Lord, no matter the reason.

The Malfoy manor had become the Death Eaters’ headquarters not too long ago, to Snape’s great discomfort. They had held one meeting at the manor already, and Snape had hoped he would not have to return after that. He had thought his presence at Hogwarts to be too important. But the Dark Lord wanted him at the meeting, so here he was, with no way of escaping.

Snape came to a large wrought-iron gate and stopped. He looked at the gate for a second before he rolled up his left sleeve, exposing his Dark Mark, and kept walking straight through the gate as if it was made out of smoke.

Continuing down the lane, fine gravel crushing under his feet as he went, the large mansion came ever closer. It was quiet and dark, almost hauntingly so, but the flickering golden lights in the windows gave away that there was life inside. Just as he was about to walk up the stairs to the double front doors, there was a sound to his right. He turned to see two white elegant peacocks strutting about on the grass. They were a strange contrast to what was otherwise going on in the Malfoy manor.

Entering the large open front hall of the mansion, Snape was on high alert. This was not a place you let your guard down - for more reasons than one, and he surely had a reason the others did not. He looked around: the manor was centuries old and it looked it. Not in an old and run-down sense, but rather an impressively antique way: the floors were a dark exclusive mahogany, the broad stairs leading up to the first floor were adorned with hand-carved railings, and on every wall there were excessively large portraits of long gone witches and wizards - most of them with blond hair.

Snape did not have to wait long before the Death Eaters, quietly and in single line, entered the manor’s large drawing room. Already sitting at the end of the table in front of the fireplace, was the Dark Lord himself, holding both his arms out to them in welcome. Respectfully, or more likely in fear, the Death Eaters kept their eyes down as they took their places at the table. The only two people who held their heads up, were Snape himself and, on the other side of the table, sitting down across from him, Bellatrix Lestrange. Entering the room last, were the Malfoys. The last meeting had been an embarrassment for the family, with the Dark Lord taking Lucius’ wand, making a complete fool out of him. Snape observed them out of the corner of his eyes: Draco, the poor boy, looked terrified; Narcissa had obviously made an effort to look like her old, proud self, and she mostly succeeded; and Lucius... Lucius somehow seemed to have regained his composure. He looked more aware than last time, his back straighter, his head not bowed quite as low. He did not even seem like the same man. Or rather, he seemed more like his old self. Snape knew that Lucius was the kind of person who recovered quickly, but this was a feat even for him.

He must have stared too long, lost in thought, because Lucius lifted his gaze and met Snape’s dark eyes. Lucius looked at him questioningly. Blinking, Snape turned his head and stared straight ahead, but he could feel Lucius’ eyes on him after that.

The meeting commenced. There was further talk of the infiltration of the Ministry of Magic; Snape reported on the situation at Hogwarts; then there was a short discussion about how damaging the Daily Prophet’s articles were and how it somehow needed to be dealt with.

The main topic of the evening, however, were mudbloods. Specifically the elimination of mudbloods. The process of finding and gathering them all, had already begun, but lately the hunt had turned more difficult. The fact that many mudbloods had gone underground, was one thing. That was only to be expected. The Death Eaters had their way of smoking them out, and therefore did not see it as much of a problem. It might take longer, but they could be patient. The main problem was that a rather large network of half-blood and even pureblood witches and wizards were helping the mudbloods stay hidden - even getting them out of the country in some cases. The Dark Lord was not happy with the situation. The underground network of mudblood helpers were yet another branch of the resistance working against him, and he wanted an end to it. He thought it strange that it had grown into such a large faction in the first place, right under the Death Eaters’ noses. How could they not have noticed? The branch needed to be severed and it needed to be severed quickly. Or else, as he so eloquently put it, there would have to be repercussions.

The meeting ended on a sour note with everyone feeling anxious. The Dark Lord disappeared and one by one the Death Eaters left the Malfoys’ drawing room. Even though he had not shown it, Snape had felt immensely uncomfortable during the meeting, and at the moment all he wanted was to get out of the manor and as far away from it as possible. He was just about to step out of the room, when Narcissa reentered it.

“May I have a word with you, Severus?” she asked, wringing her hands.

He wanted to say no, but instead he answered: “Of course.”

“I just wanted to ask you if you know anything about how Draco is doing? I realise it is a silly question. I am his mother, after all, I should know. And I have asked him, but he- he won’t talk to me about it. He dismisses me, telling me everything is fine. I think he is trying to protect me by not letting me in. But I can tell, Severus, I can tell that he is not okay. I can see that he is struggling with all of this.”

Narcissa was babbling, much unlike her. She was always so composed - the picture of elegance. But Severus knew that the last months had been hard on her and her family, and everyone knew that they were anything but comfortable offering their house up as a safe place for the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters.

“He has not come to me, if that is what you are asking,” began Snape, “but anyone can tell that he is having a hard time. It is as good as written on his face.”

“I never wanted him involved in any of this,” she whispered, clearly terrified anyone would hear her, and rightly so. Those words would not be taken lightly if they reached the Dark Lord.

“It is too late for that now,” Snape answered her, cutting off any further discussion on the topic. “Pardon me, Narcissa, but I must take my leave.”

“Naturally,” she nodded and gave him a forced smile.

He was just about to leave the room again, when she called his name. He turned.

“You will continue to look out for him, won't you, Severus?”

Severus gave her a nod. “I will.”

It was high time to get out of the manor. It was as if he had been holding his breath the whole time he was sitting at the table and all he wanted right now was to get out into the fresh air so he could breathe again. He marched through the front hall, opened the front doors and was finally outside. He filled his lungs with the crisp night air and could feel his shoulders relaxing. He was out. He had made it.

“Severus,” a voice came from the shadows. Normally, Snape would have whipped around and pulled out his wand at someone sneaking up on him like that, but he recognised the voice, and he was not sure he wanted to turn around to face it. It was a voice he knew all too well. A voice he both loved and hated to hear speak his name. The voice that was the reason he did not want to come to this house. A part of him wanted nothing more than for his own name to be on those lips, while another part wished they would never utter it.

He knew he had to turn around. He could not just ignore the voice, as much as he wanted to. So he did and he looked straight at Lucius Malfoy, who was emerging from the shadows. Snape felt his shoulders tense up again as Lucius’ eyes ran from the bottom of his feet all the way up to his face, where they met his own. A silence lingered between them as they simply stood and looked at each other for a short while.

“How are you? It has been a long time,” Lucius then spoke.

More silence before he added: “You look well.”

Small talk. Snape almost laughed out loud. He was not sure who Lucius was trying to fool with this act, because it certainly was not working on him. As a matter of fact, it only made him annoyed. No, more than annoyed: angry.

“Please stop,” said Severus firmly. He meant it.

Lucius did not stop: “I have wanted to talk to you on several occasions this last year, but you have avoided me every time.”

Snape was just about to roll his eyes. He could not believe he was having this conversation, and he could feel his anger building inside him. Snape had indeed noticed that Lucius had made more of an effort to show up places where Snape was, but he did not understand why. He thought their silent agreement of staying away from each other, was very clear.

“Can you blame me?” he asked sarcastically.

“Severus...”

“What?!” Snape was not having any of this. He did not want to talk to Lucius about whatever it was Lucius wanted to talk about. He could nor have just a casual conversation with him. It hurt too much. He had to get away.

“I just want to talk.”

“Well, I don’t.” Snape turned to walk away. He had to leave before he said something he would regret.

“Severus, please!” Lucius begged him. “Talk to me. Why won’t you talk to me?”

At those words Snape froze in his tracks. He clenched his fists, feeling how the well of emotions he had bottled up for so many years was dangerously close to exploding. He could not keep it in anymore. It was too much, being at his mansion, seeing him with his wife and son. Even in this dire situation, with death around every corner and war raging around them, all he could see was Lucius and his happy family. While he had nothing. No one.

Finally, he turned back around and with fury fueling him he got right in Lucius’ face: “Talk to you? What exactly is it you want me to say, Lucius?” Snape almost spat at him.

Lucius was no doubt surprised by the sudden anger, but he did not flinch, and Snape did not give him any time to answer. The can of worms had been opened, and everything was spilling out, whether he wanted to or not.

“Do you want me to say that I am still not over you? That I have been trying for years to forget about you - about us - but no matter how hard I try, I can not get you out of my head! That seeing your son in class, is torture, because he is the spitting image of you! That it is tearing me apart to look at you! That even hearing your name come up in conversations, is killing me inside! That from the first time we kissed, it felt as if you were in my arteries, and that you are still there! That you broke my heart… Is that what you want me to say?!”

Snape was panting at the end of his outburst, his eyes wild and his whole body trembling.

Lucius looked at him. Somehow, he did not seem shocked at Snape’s words. If anything, he looked a little sad, which made Snape even more furious.

“Severus, I-” Lucius began, but Snape cut him off.

“Don’t!” he snapped. “Don’t pity me!”

He whipped around and was just about to march off, when Lucius’ strong hand grabbed a hold of his arm and forced him to face him again. Snape did not have time to react before he felt Lucius’ lips pressed against his own.


	2. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I am but the sea  
> The wide blue  
> Staring up at you  
> You're my moon, my moon, my moon
> 
> \- Mary Lambert, “My moon”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_Winter 1972._

The Christmas holidays had recently ended and all the Hogwarts students that had gone home to be with their families, had returned just a few days ago. Many still seemed to be in a bit of a holiday mode, not too keen on starting up school again.

Snape, who was now in his second semester of his first year, was quite keen on getting back to classes. He enjoyed learning. It was something he was good at. He was not comfortable around people. He found it difficult to talk to most of them, and often came off awkward when he tried. Therefore he liked being in class, where he could sit in peace and focus on what the professors wanted to teach him. Outside of class, he mostly stuck to himself, often reading. The Christmas holidays had been good though. Not that many other students had stayed behind at Hogwarts, so the castle had been quiet, and it had been really nice to be fed his first proper Christmas dinner ever. He had even received a small gift. It was from Lily, of course, the only one he could really call his friend. She had given him a leather-bound notebook, and inside she had filled the pages with both silly and kind phrases and words. Before she left for the holidays, she had given it to him and said: “Look at this when you feel sad, Sev. It will make you feel better!” And it did. Like right now, when he was feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the constant buzzing in the castle and needed a break from it all. He was standing outside in the courtyard, which was empty but for him, turning the pages of the notebook, smiling down at it as he did.

“Hey Snivellus,” came a voice to his left. Snape looked up. It was James Potter, wearing a smirk on his face.

Snape and James had taken an instant dislike to each other, being one another’s exact opposite: James, a cocky, extroverted know-it-all always surrounded by his Marauders posse; and Snape, a quiet loner without the need to assert himself. Snape did his best to simply ignore James and his friends, but James always seemed to go out of his way to track Snape down and annoy him.

Hovering behind James, as if he had two extra shadows, were Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. “You look happy. What are you reading?” James asked him mockingly.

Snape quickly closed the notebook and held it away from James. He should not have done that however, because while he was paying attention to James, Sirius Black came up behind him, snatching the notebook right out of his hands.

“Hey! Give it back!” Snape called out and tried to grab it back from Sirius.

Sirius easily sidestepped him and threw the book over his head to James, who caught it, pointed his wand at it and exclaimed: “ _Wingardium Leviosa!_ ” The notebook flew up into the air a couple of feet above Snape’s head.

“If you want it, get it,” James taunted him. The other three laughed at his joke.

Snape was not going to take the bait and jump after the book. He knew the second he tried to do that, James would levitate the book higher. So he simply stood there, his cheeks burning from both embarrassment and anger, looking at the ground.

“My my! Aren’t you four the coolest guys in Gryffindor,” a velvety voice dripping with sarcasm suddenly sounded behind them.

Both Snape and his tormentors turned to face it. It belonged to Slytherin prefect Lucius Malfoy. He was probably three heads taller than any of them, with broad shoulders and short white-blond hair slicked away from his face. He was one of the most popular and gifted boys in school, both socially and academically. In addition, he somehow always managed to look way better dressed than anyone else in his school uniform.

He looked at James and raised an eyebrow. “I can certainly see why your house is known for its bravery. I mean, it does take some _nerve_ for four boys to gang up on one.”

James turned almost as crimson as parts of his scarf. He lowered his wand and the levitating notebook fell from the sky and into the snow. Next to him, Remus and Peter looked as if someone had slapped them across the face. Only Sirius seemed not to be too affected by the insult, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Lucius needed only nod his head in the direction of the castle for the four Gryffindors to scamper off towards it. Then he walked over to where the notebook had landed, picked it up and brushed the snow off it before handing it to Snape.

“Here you go.” He flashed a smile.

“Thanks.” Snape smiled awkwardly back at him.

“No problem. Us Slytherins stick together, after all.”

Lucius threw an arm around Snape’s shoulders as they walked together back to the castle. Normally Snape would have hated anyone touching him the way Lucius did, but for some reason he did not even understand himself, he did not mind him doing it.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_Winter 1976._

Snape was sitting alone by the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, eating his lunch in quiet. Around him, the other students were talking, laughing, calling at each other from across house tables and generally making a lot of unnecessary noise, in Snape’s opinion. The enchanted ceiling was cloudy today and snow was coming down from it, mirroring the weather outside.

Hoots were heard and several owls entered the Great Hall to deliver the daily post. Letters and packages were dropped in the hands of the right recipients before the owls left the hall again. A tawny owl swooped towards Snape and dropped a letter in front of him. He knew who it was from before he opened it. There was only one person who ever sent him letters: Lucius.

When Lucius graduated from Hogwarts four years ago, he had promised Snape he would stay in touch with him. Snape had not believed him when he said it, but to his great surprise Lucius had kept his word. They had frequently exchanged letters since then and become close friends, despite their age difference. When the opportunity arose, they also met up, but it had been almost a year since they saw each other last, with Lucius becoming steadily more busy with his work at the Ministry of Magic.

Before opening the letter, Snape absentmindedly let his thumb pass over his own name written in Lucius’ elegant hand.

_Severus,_

_You have probably forgotten, since you are so excellent at ignoring yourself, but fact is it is still your sixteenth birthday this coming Saturday. Coincidentally, I will be in Hogsmeade that day. Meet me at the Three Broomsticks at six o’clock._

_Lucius_

 A smile spread across Snape’s face. He could not believe Lucius was actually coming all the way up to Hogsmeade for his birthday. Normally, Snape did not celebrate his birthday. He did not see the point. Lily and him would usually hang out, but other than that there was nothing to speak of. Thinking of Lily, Snape wondered if it would be okay to bring her with him? He looked over to the Gryffindor table, scanning it for Lily’s red hair. He spotted her just as she was about to leave the Great Hall. He quickly gathered his things and ran after her, passing James on his way out, who glared at him.

“Lily!” he called after her.

Lily broke into a smile when she saw him. “Hi Sev! I haven't seen you all day.”

“I’ve been running from class to class. Barely had time for lunch just now,” he explained.

“Slow down a little,” she told him motherly.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Says Lily Evans, top of her class.”

“Point taken,” she said. The two of them started walking together up the stairs.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Snape began.

“Shoot!”

“It’s my birthday on Saturday and I’m going in to Hogsmeade. Do you want to come along?”

Lily looked slightly terrified at his question. Then she clasped her hand over her mouth. “Oh Sev, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot about your birthday and I have this huge Muggle Studies paper I’ve been working on over Christmas, that needs to be delivered on Monday, and I’m still not finished with it. I need to live in the library this weekend.”

Snape expected to at least feel a tiny bit disappointed by that answer, but funnily enough he did not. “It’s fine,” he shrugged.

Lily was apparently feeling awful though. “I can’t believe I have this stupid paper. I don’t want you to be alone on your birthday.”

“It’s okay, I won’t be alone,” Snape reassured her.

“You won’t?” she asked him, surprised.

“Lucius is coming up from Wiltshire.”

“Is he really?” She sounded relieved at hearing that.

“We’re meeting at the Three Broomsticks at six o’clock.” Snape did not notice that he was smiling while telling her.

“Then what do you need me for!” Lily said jokingly.

Snape nudged her in the side with his elbow. “Don’t be silly, I would obviously love for my best friend to be there.” He was being truthful. He would love for Lily to go with him, but he felt no grief at her not coming along.

Saturday came quick, and a couple of hours before meeting up with Lucius, Snape was standing in front of the mirror in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory bathroom. He was not sure if his regular all black attire was okay, but he did noy have any fancy clothes to put on. He was even less sure why he was thinking so much about this. He dragged his hand through his hair, in an effort to give it some volume, but it fell right back down in his face like a pair of heavy curtains. He sighed.

Snape showed up at the Three Broomsticks half an hour early. The pub was already packed with people when he arrived. He tried finding a table, but failed. Instead, he stood himself in the corner by the stairs, picking at his nails while waiting.

Six o’clock sharp, the door to the pub opened and Lucius walked in. He took off his coat and shook it free of snow before draping it over his left arm, which was also carrying a small leather bag. He was impeccably dressed, as always, with a crisp white shirt pinned together at the neck by a snake brooch, and a dark green brocade vest. His hair had gotten a lot longer since the last time Snape saw him almost a year ago, and he had pulled it back into a low ponytail. Snape’s heart started beating a little faster as he looked at him, and there was a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach.

Lucius looked around the room, and when he saw Snape, he smiled and lifted his hand in greeting.

“Hello there, birthday boy,” he said cheekily when he came over. “Why are you hiding over here in the corner?”

“There were no available tables,” Snape shrugged. That feeling of awkwardness that he usually felt around strangers, was looming over him.

“Good thing I rented a room, then!” Lucius exclaimed and held out his hands as if waiting for applause after showing off a trick.

Snape was taken aback. “What, really? A room? Why do we need a room?”

He suddenly felt very hot. The thought of being alone in a room with Lucius was for some reason making his palms sweat.

“Because there are no available tables,” Lucius winked and started up the stairs to the first floor of the inn. He gestured to Snape to follow him.

The room Lucius had rented was not particularly big, but comfortable and cosy, just like the rest of the Three Broomsticks. Everything felt very homely, from the soft rug on the floor to the bookshelf by the window stacked with actual, readable books. There was a chair in one of the corners, and Snape took a seat in it.

“Now, since it’s your birthday,” began Lucius, and that cheeky smile was back on his face, “I figured you deserved a gift.”

Snape shook his head. “You really don’t have to give me anything.”

“Just say ‘thank you’, Severus.”

He put the leather bag he had been carrying down on the bed, opened it and pulled out a bottle of wine. “ _Superior Red_. Matured for a thousand years, to be enjoyed by us right now.”

He whipped his wand out and uncorked the bottle with a simple spell, before he also used his wand to pour the wine into two glasses already on the table by the window.

Lucius picked up one of the glasses and handed it to Snape. As Snape took the glass, his fingers brushed Lucius’ and a jolt went through his body. He swallowed nervously and cast a quick glance at Lucius, who did not seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. Instead, he raised his own glass into the air.

“A cheers to you, Severus, for being an excellent confidant. May our friendship continue to grow in the future, like that of a small seed that turns into a beautiful flower.”

Lucius’ ridiculous speech finally made Snape relax a little. He could be so over the top sometimes. Snape leaned back in his chair and gave him a resigned look. “Really?” was all he said.

“Too much?”

“A wee bit,” Snape laughed.

“Okay fine, just ‘happy birthday’ then,” he said exhaling, sitting down on the bed, taking a sip from his glass.

Snape had never tried anything alcoholic before, so he was not sure what to expect. He had been told that wine was very bitter and an, in every meaning of the word, acquired taste. He took a careful first sip, and realised to his great surprise that the wine Lucius had brought was not bitter at all. It had a deep, rich and smooth flavour to it that his taste buds favoured greatly. He took another sip, then another, and before he knew it he had finished his first glass.

“Careful with that,” Lucius warned, “it’s very potent.”

Snape did not care. He had been so nervous all day and he liked how the wine seemed to help him relax. So he kept drinking, and he talked - a lot. More than he had ever talked before in his life: about school, about Lily and about the stupid Marauders. He even talked about his parents, whom he never talked about, because they only made him angry.

After that, things got kind of blurry. At some point Lucius got up and took away his wine glass, which Snape greatly resented, and decided to fight for.

“Nooo! That’s mine!” Snape shouted at him. He got out of his chair with the intention of getting the wine glass back. The second he stood up, he suddenly felt the room swimming.

“I think you’ve had quite enough,” Lucius told him with a little laugh, holding the wine glass as far away from Snape as he managed.

Snape stepped towards him, reaching out for the wine glass in Lucius’ hand, but just as his coordination had failed him earlier, his balance failed him now. He fell forward against Lucius, who had nowhere to go, being trapped between Snape and the bed. Snape was not very heavy, but he was heavy enough to knock Lucius over when hitting him with his full weight. They both fell onto the bed, Snape on top of Lucius, the wine glass in Lucius’ hand spilling all over his bright white shirt and the bed sheets.

The last thing Snape remembered was Lucius saying with a sigh: “You’ve definitely had enough.”

The next morning, Snape woke up in a room he did not recognise. The light was very bright in his eyes, his mouth bone dry and his head throbbing. It felt as if a troll had hit him over the head. He was still wearing his clothes, but his shoes were off, and he was tucked properly into bed. It took him a minute or so to realise he was still in the rented room in the Three Broomsticks. He looked around, but he seemed to be alone. He lay completely still while trying to remember the events of the night before. Lucius had brought wine. He remembered that. And he had liked it. Then he remembered how much he had been drinking and that he had gotten kind of loud. He noticed a red stain on the bed sheet and suddenly everything came back to him - how he had been so drunk he had fallen on top of Lucius on the bed.

“Oh no, what did I do?” Snape cringed, feeling the embarrassment of making a fool out of himself in front of Lucius, and on top of that the general misery of the day after for the first time in his life. He wanted to crawl under the duvet and stay there forever. So he did, at least for a little while.

When he finally sat up in bed, Snape first noticed a large bottle of water on the night stand, and a glass next to it. He filled it up and gratefully quenched his thirst. Then he noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand as well, folded in half with his name written on it. He opened it and read:

_Severus,_

_I hope you are not feeling too awful this morning. However, if you are: do not. You did nothing wrong and we have all been there. Also, stains can be removed._

Snape stopped reading as he felt his face go red from embarrassment again. He took a few breaths before he continued:

_You passed out and I thought it best if you slept it off at the inn. I am sorry I am not there to check on you right now. I stayed as long as I could but father expected me home before sunrise, so I had to leave._

_Send me an owl when you are awake, so I know you survived, will you?_

_Lucius_

Had Lucius stayed with him after he fell asleep? He must have. How else would he have gotten into bed? That was when he noticed his shoes placed neatly on the floor next to the night stand. He definitely could not have done that himself. Had Lucius been awake the whole night, looking after him? Or had he slept too? And if so, where had he slept? He could not have slept in the bed next to him, could he? Snape reached his hand out and felt the space next to him in bed. There was no way of knowing, but his heart skipped a beat at the thought of Lucius having been so close to him all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teenage Snape is a cinnamon bun, okay. I love him. I also love pretentious but actually caring early twenties Lucius.
> 
> Also, the Marauders are assholes. (I love them really, but they were the worst bullies.)


	3. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want you to notice  
> When I’m not around  
> You’re so fuckin’ special  
> I wish I was special
> 
> \- Radiohead, “Creep”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_Summer 1977._

Lucius had invited quite a few friends to a midsummer party at the Malfoy manor. As expected, it was a lavish one. The large garden was as if taken out of a fairytale, with actual fairy lights lighting up every tree from the manor patio and as far down the garden pathways as the eye could see. There was a sweet smell of lilac in the air, making the guests absentmindedly draw in the scent and relax. The evening’s entertainment was a string quartet playing classical music that perfectly fit the theme of summer.

Lucius was, unsurprisingly, an excellent host. Watching him work the room, was like a study in social interaction. From the way he dressed to the way he moved; from the way he placed himself to the way he interacted with his guests: he was able to draw everyone and anyone towards him when he wanted to, and then ever so delicately move the attention away from him again when need be. He had an aura that was irresistible to those around him, and he was very much aware of it - always using it to his advantage. However, he did not seem to be as addicted to being the centre of attention as to controlling the room. While it was obvious that he enjoyed having people’s eyes on him, it was more subtle how his real enjoyment came from deciding _when_ people’s eyes were on him.

Snape was good at reading people. He always had been. Blending into the background as he so often did, he was able to quietly observe the way people interacted with others and their environment. He had been standing at the edge of the patio the entire evening, watching Lucius’ every move.

He was so good at getting people to like him, including Snape himself, and Snape hated it. He hated that he knew the effect Lucius had on him, but not being able to resist it. He hated that he was spending his night focusing entirely on him, and he hated the way he spent every single day thinking about him. He hated how he wished there were no other people at the party, because he wanted Lucius to pay attention to him and only him. But mostly he hated how he did not hate him. Mostly he hated having these thoughts and how confused they made him.

The clock was nearing midnight, and Snape observed Lucius at the other end of the patio as a beautiful young blonde woman confidently walked up to him, snuck an arm around his waist and got up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek: Narcissa Black. He must have enjoyed it, because a smile spread across his face when she did, and he put his arm around her shoulders in return. Looking at them, Snape tightened the grip on the glass he was holding. Why was she all over him?

Why did he care?

As the clock struck midnight, sudden bursts erupted from the sky. Snape looked up to see a colorful display of fireworks above him. The other guests gaped and clapped at the show, but Snape was not able to even remotely enjoy it.

He could not stay at the party any longer. It was making his stomach turn to watch Lucius together with Narcissa. He had to leave. He made his way through the crowd of people, who barely even noticed him, and into the front hall of the manor. There was a large fireplace there with an urn of Floo powder next to it. He grabbed a handful of the green powder and then he waited. He wanted Lucius to notice that he had left, to go look for him and to find him there - to ask him to stay. He waited, but no one came. What did he expect? Lucius had barely spoken a word to him all evening.

Why did that hurt?

Snape stepped into the fireplace, stated “ _Spinner’s End_ ” loud and clear, and threw the Floo powder at his own feet. Emerald green flames completely engulfed him and he disappeared.

He reappeared in the fireplace of his own home. It was way past midnight and his parents were thankfully in bed.

There were so many thoughts going through his mind that he struggled to sort out. He needed to relax, so he decided to take a shower. He locked the bathroom door behind him and turned the shower on, undressed and stepped under the steaming water. He let out a sigh of relief as he could feel the heat release the tension in his muscles. His head was still racing though. Like flashes of film in front of his eyes, he saw Lucius together with Narcissa, laughing and putting his arm around her. Snape gritted his teeth and hit the wall in front of him.

Then his mind twisted things around and envisioned Lucius and Snape laughing together instead, and Lucius putting his arm around him.

Snape licked his lips while he imagined Lucius entering the bathroom and joining him in the shower. Closing his eyes, he could practically feel Lucius coming up to him from behind and teasingly slide his fingers up his spine. Goosebumps formed on his skin and he could feel himself getting hard. He reached down and grabbed a hold of his own shaft, letting out a shaky breath as he slowly started pumping it.

In his mind Lucius was kissing his neck, one of his hands firmly on Snape’s hips while his other hand made its way down towards his cock. Snape pumped harder, faster, his breath becoming shallow. In his mind Lucius was all over him, touching, grabbing, licking, biting every place that gave Snape the most pleasure.

Just as he imagined Lucius’ own, hard cock rubbing up against his ass, Snape’s muscles tensed. A moan escaped his lips as his cock jerked and he spilled into his own hand.

 

* * *

 

_Autumn 1977._

Snape had been feeling miserable for months. Ever since the midsummer party, he had been down. He thought it would help to get back to school, where he could focus on his studies, but in all honesty it only made him feel worse. Being around so many people all the time, having to participate in class and being forced to communicate with his classmates, was the last thing he needed. He only wanted to be alone with his thoughts, trying to sort out what was going on with him. He could not concentrate on anything else. He could not even sleep properly.

He had just escaped the castle and settled himself on the shores of the Great Lake. He liked to go there to think. Looking out at the water made him relax and feel at peace.

He had been trying to figure himself out for a while now, without having any luck. He had so many questions, but no proper answers. He did not understand what was happening to him. What had been happening for quite a while without him even noticing it himself. At first, he thought all of this was just a form of idolization. After all, Lucius was everything Snape would never be: cool, confident, popular, good-looking. It did not hit him properly until after that midsummer party, when he had glared at Lucius together with Narcissa, and felt a sick feeling of... jealousy? He had tried to tell himself that it was because Lucius was his friend, but that was not true. He was not jealous of any of Lucius' other friends, and Merlin knew he had plenty. Snape was scared to admit it, even to himself, but he was jealous of Narcissa because she was more than a friend.

Snape flinched a little just thinking about it. This was not how things were supposed to work. He should not have feelings for another boy. Yet, here he was with that strange butterfly sensation in his stomach every time he thought of Lucius. And wondering how his lips would feel against his own...

He let out an exasperated sigh. Why was he different? Up until now it had never been that much of an issue for him to be the odd one out. More often than not he even appreciated not being a part of the norm. But could he not be like everyone else just this once? Did he have to be different with this as well?

Snape picked up a rock from the shore and threw it into the lake as hard as he managed. Being different was bad enough, but being different with no chance of getting what you longed for, was worse. Lucius, a handsome and popular pureblood wizard, was never going to look twice at Snape, a pathetic and unattractive half-blood.

“Wow, Snivellus, I didn’t know you had such a good arm. You should sign up for the Quidditch team as a beater.” James Potter’s condescending voice sounded behind Snape.

 _Please no, not this_ , he thought. Snape could not handle this right now. He turned around slowly to face the Marauders.

“Or you could be a bludger,” said Sirius with a patronizing smirk. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to give you a good smack.”

James laughed and Peter snickered at his words. Remus gave a nervous laugh too, but he looked rather uncomfortable.

“Shut up,” Snape uttered. His voice was almost shaking because of the anger building up inside him.

The four boys looked at him with surprise. Snape did not have a habit of talking back to them. He honestly could not be bothered. So they were no doubt taken aback by the sound of his threatening voice.

Sirius deliberately took Snape’s words as provocation, not caring that he and his friends were the ones who started this whole thing in the first place. He took a few steps closer to Snape, standing toe to toe with him.

“What did you say?” He was inches away from Snape’s face, trying to intimidate him.

Something snapped in Snape then. He was so sick of them always picking on him, and right now he had no patience what so ever for their mockery. He grabbed a hold of Sirius, quickly drew his wand and pressed it against Sirius’ throat.

“I said shut up, or I swear I’ll curse you!” Snape snarled through gritted teeth.

Sirius’ eyes widened as he realised the sudden gravity of the situation. Snape had a reputation with curses. He had always been good at Dark Arts. Curses and hexes came easy to him, and the Marauders knew this. If he wanted to, he could curse Sirius into oblivion. And he could not lie, the idea was tempting.

Under the tip of his wand, Snape could see Sirius’ vein throb, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. Behind him, James, Remus and Peter were gaping at them in shock.

“Severus!” a loud voice then sounded.

Snape was surprised at suddenly hearing Lily’s voice, but he did not lose his focus and held onto Sirius. His anger was still raging as he looked up to see her running towards him, her auburn hair billowing behind her. She stopped next to Remus and looked at Snape with pleading eyes.

“Sev, let him go! You have to let him go,” she begged him, panting. She was out of breath from running.

Snape looked at her with eyes even darker than usual, before he turned back to Sirius. He pressed his wand a little further into Sirius’ throat. It was so tempting.

“I don’t have to do anything.” And he realised it was true as he said it.

“Sev, please! You can’t hurt him.”

Then, to Snape’s great surprise, James chimed in with her begging. “Yes, please let him go.” He actually sounded really worried.

Lily glared over at James as he spoke and he immediately shut his mouth when he noticed the look she gave him.

Still keeping her eyes on James, Lily spoke again: “I’m sure whatever these uncivilized baboons said to you, you shouldn’t take it seriously, because it’s usually a bunch of nonsense that come out of their big mouths.”

James, Remus and Peter all stared at the ground as Lily called out their behaviour. Sirius was not really able to move, but he was blinking a lot and seemed uncomfortable in a whole new way.

Annoyingly enough, Lily was right. Snape could not hurt Sirius, as much as he wanted to right now. He finally lowered his wand and let go of Sirius, who immediately backed away from him, almost tripping over his own feet as he did.

“Get out of here,” Lily told them and pointed back up at the castle.

As the four boys turned to walk away, Snape could hear Sirius mutter ‘psycho’ under his breath.

Snape was worn out. The lack of sleep and his thoughts constantly grinding around in his head, were really getting to him. He sank down on the shore of the lake and put his face in his hands. Lily was there a second after, putting one of her arms around his shoulders.

“You shouldn’t pay attention to what they say to you,” Lily told him softly.

Snape shook his head slightly. He could feel his eyes stinging from tears begging to be released. “It’s not them.”

“Then what’s going on?” she asked him. She sounded confused.

Snape lifted his head. He desperately wanted to tell her, but he was scared she would judge him; tell him he was a freak for having these thoughts and not want to talk to him ever again.

“I… I don’t know if I can say it.” His voice was unsteady.

“Sev, I’m not going to force you to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about, but if you do want to talk, I promise you I’ll sit right here next to you and listen to whatever it is you have to say.”

Her green eyes were compassionate and sincere, and she held his gaze as if to confirm that she truly meant what she said. Snape decided then that he was going to trust her and tell her everything.

He took a deep breath and in a careful voice, asked: “How do you know if you’re in love?”

Lily looked confused again. Whatever it was she thought Snape was afraid to talk about, it was obvious that she had not guessed this.

“Well,” she began, ”I guess there are several telltale signs. When you see someone and you get butterflies in your stomach or your heart skips a beat; when your palms get all sweaty when you’re near them and you all of a sudden can’t think of any smart things to say; when you can’t get that person out of your mind, no matter how hard you try to forget about them.” She spoke tenderly and was almost poetic in the way she described being in love, and Snape could not help but wonder if maybe she was in love herself. Then, to lighten the mood, she grimaced and added: “Those kinds of annoying things!”

He let out a small laugh. Talking to her seemed to help. “Then I think…” He swallowed. “Then I think I’m in love.”

Lily smiled at him. “But that’s a good thing, Sev!” Then she noticed how he was fidgeting with his wand and looking at the ground. “Isn’t it?”

Snape did not know how to explain the next part to her. “It’s just that… something seems to be wrong with me.”

“What do you mean ‘wrong’?” She sounded worried now.

It was difficult to find the right words, and he was so scared. “I shouldn’t be in love with the person I’m in love with.”

“I’m sorry, Sev, I don’t understand what you mean. Why would you say that? Who is it that you’re in love with?”

Snape’s heart was racing in his chest and he was finding it hard to breathe, as if something was squeezing his throat from inside. He was terrified, and for a moment he contemplated getting up and running away. Or tell her he was just joking. But he had said this much, and he really needed to get this off his chest. He swallowed hard and then he finally uttered the words he had never dared say out loud even to himself: “I’m in love with Lucius.”

Silence fell between them. Around them Snape could hear the wind bristle in the trees; off in the distance a bird sounded. He held his breath while his heart hammered so hard in his chest, he was sure it could be heard miles away. Lily was not saying anything. Why was she not saying anything? He did not dare look at her in fear of finding her with an appalled and disgusted look on her face. Was this the end of their friendship? Was she going to get up and leave now? He should never have told her. He knew it. He should have kept this to himself and never told anyone at all.

Then Snape felt Lily’s hand take hold of his and squeeze it gently. He finally dared to look at her. She was smiling at him, reassuringly and lovingly. There was no judgement in her eyes. No look of disgust on her face.

“Tell me what you like about him,” she encouraged him.

Snape hesitated. He could tell her how he liked Lucius’ confidence, ambition and drive, and how he did not let anyone hinder him from getting exactly what he wanted. But also how he underneath his arrogant display was actually quite a caring person who was kind and giving to his friends. He could tell her that he liked that he sometimes used an outdated vocabulary, even if it was pretentious. And he could tell her how he liked that he always looked so effortlessly stylish and classy. And handsome. How his sharp, grey eyes and his soft, pale skin reminded Snape of marble; how he would cross his legs in an elegant manner when he sat down and fold his hands in his lap in a very specific way; how every time he lifted his head slightly, his jawline would sharpen and all Snape wanted to do was to reach out and touch it. And he could tell her that all these things made him ache for Lucius.

But Snape did not know how to voice all of this, so he simply answered: “Everything.”

Lily studied his face, still smiling, then nodded. She understood.

“Sev,” she then spoke.

“Yes?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” She squeezed his hand again when she said it. “You need to know that, and you need to believe that. There’s nothing wrong with you simply because you like boys.”

At those words, Snape felt how the tears that had burned in his eyes for so long, finally found their release. Lily wrapped her arms around him and he cried quietly as she held him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sev. Let's hope it gets less confusing from here, with Lily's help. She is the best friend anyone could have.


	4. Initiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm the kind to sit up in my room  
> Heart sick and eyes filled up with blue  
> I don't know what you've done to me  
> But I know this much is true  
> I wanna do bad things with you
> 
> \- Jace Everett, "Bad things"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_Summer 1978._

Snape was kneeling in the middle of a large circular room. It was almost like a cathedral in its appearance, with white walls and a high ceiling that piqued in a dome. There was an echo that bounced around the room every time someone made a sound, making the room itself feel intimidating and everyone in it feel small.

Standing around him in a closed circle, were men and women clothed in long black robes and hoods, with ornate masks covering their faces: The Death Eaters. The masks were an unnecessary form of anonymity in this case, as Snape already knew who they all were. But it no doubt gave quite the dramatic effect and made the initiation feel even more important. He was joining a brotherhood after all, and not just that, he was joining the inner circle.

Towering menacingly over him, also clad in black robes, with his inhuman appearance, was Lord Voldemort.

“Your arm,” he ordered.

Snape rolled up his left sleeve and presented the underside of his arm to the Dark Lord. He was not experiencing any fear. Rather, he was feeling a sensation of excitement. And he felt included. For the first time in his eighteen year old life, he felt as if he was actually part of something.

Lord Voldemort touched Snape’s arm with the tip of his wand and uttered an incantation. Snape felt his skin burn with pain, but he refused to show it. He kept his face expressionless and focused on the brand that slowly started appearing on his arm: a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. The Dark Mark. It was faint at first, almost like an old scar, then it turned red. As Lord Voldemort removed his wand from Snape’s arm, the Dark Mark instantly activated and turned jet black.

Snape was then allowed to stand and was given his own mask, which he put on before he found his place among the other Death Eaters in the circle. Then he watched as Evan Rosier was initiated as well. He let out quite the audible noise when the Dark Mark was branded into his arm, and Snape could see how displeased Lord Voldemort was at the pain he so openly showed. Snape felt a sense of pride at the way he himself had handled it.

When Rosier’s initiation was over with and he had found his place in the circle, Lord Voldemort disapparated out of the room. Then one by one, the other Death Eaters did the same. In the end, there were only two people left: Snape and one other masked figure at the opposite side of the room. His mask was black with silver ornaments, and Snape could just make out a pair of grey eyes behind it.

Lucius took his mask off and crossed the room. Snape was glad he was still wearing his, because he was way worse at hiding his expression of desire as Lucius walked towards him, than he was at hiding his pain when Lord Voldemort had given him the Dark Mark. He was not quite sure why he was feeling so heated at the moment, but the initiation had left him feeling powerful, and it was as if all of his senses were heightened.

“You did well,” Lucius praised him when he came to a halt in front of Snape. “Granted, I never expected any less.”

Snape removed his own mask. “Thank you,” he answered, his heart thumping in his chest.

A sudden, violent burning from the Dark Mark, made Snape wince, and he grabbed his left arm.

Lucius reached out for Snape’s arm. “Let me.”

Snape let him take his arm, and Lucius lightly massaged the burn on the outside of his robes.

“Mine hurt a lot in the beginning too. I found that this helped.”

But Snape was not thinking about the pain anymore. The pain disappeared, at least from his mind, the second Lucius took his arm. All Snape could think about now was how close Lucius was. His face right in front of his own: marble skin, brows slightly furrowed in concentration, eyes fixed on Snape’s arm, pale pink lips parted. They looked so soft.

It was hard to tell where his courage came from. Most likely it was not courage at all, but more that he was swept up in the moment. He was on a high after getting his Dark Mark. And Lucius was irresistible. He simply could not hold it back any longer. So he leaned in and kissed him.

Snape had never kissed anyone before, and it was a strange sensation to be so close to another human being that his breath actually mixed with theirs. But it was satisfying, oh so satisfying. There was a taste of something sweet on Lucius, but Snape could not quite put his finger on what it was.

This was a moment Snape had longed for for a long time. He had spent so many days and nights thinking about what it would be like to kiss these particular lips. It was a silly comparison, but it did somehow feel like the time stood still at that moment.

Then two hands pushed against him and pulled away.

“Severus, what are you doing?” There was shock in Lucius’ voice. He had a strange, questioning look on his face.

Snape stared at him, horrified, before his eyes shot to the floor in shame. It suddenly dawned on him what he had actually done. He had kissed Lucius. Actually kissed him. Panic struck down in him like lightning and he began stuttering apologies.

“I-I’m so sorry! I was just… I just… I don’t know what I was thinking. Or doing. D-don’t… Please don’t...” He rambled on with his eyes fixed on the floor. He had a sick feeling of dread in his stomach. Before the man in front of him could say anything at all, Snape thought it best if he just left.

“I’ll go,” he said, and took a step to the side in order to apparate out of the room. But before he could do anything more, an arm shot out in front of him and stopped him.

“Wait,” Lucius ordered. His voice was dark.

Snape froze. There was a moment of complete silence where neither of them moved, before Lucius lowered his arm and stepped behind Snape. He was dangerously close. Snape felt a mixture of warmth and fear spread through his body. He was genuinely afraid of what Lucius might do, but he was still feeling the heat from the kiss. He remained still, not daring to move, waiting to see what Lucius would do.

Then he felt Lucius’ warm breath close to his ear, tickling the skin on his neck. Involuntarily, he shivered.

“You surprised me, Severus,” Lucius whispered, his voice still dark and dangerous. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.”

Snape gasped, and it must have been more audible than he thought, because Lucius gave a dark little laugh. He had not expected this. He had been desperately longing for something to happen, but never really dared to hope. Never really thought that Lucius would actually reciprocate.

“Now, Severus,” Lucius continued. Snape got chills from hearing him say his name. “How do you want to play this?” Lucius blew hot air on the sensitive spot right behind Snape’s ear and goosebumps immediately formed on his skin.

Snape hesitated. He did not know what to say. He had never been in a situation like this before. He did not realise there were different ways he could play this at all. To be frank, he did not really know of even one way. This was all new to him.

“I-I don’t know,” he stuttered, and he loathed himself for feeling so insecure.

Lucius grabbed a hold of Snape and turned him around so they were face to face. He tilted his head a little and studied Snape’s face. Snape felt incredibly self-conscious, as if he was on display and being scrutinized for all of his flaws. He wanted to look at Lucius, but he could not. He felt too uncomfortable under Lucius’ gaze. His perfect gaze.

Snape’s eyes went to the floor again, but almost immediately, Lucius’ hand reached out for his chin. He tilted it upwards, forcing Snape to look at him.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed that you’re lacking experience,” he told him. “Everyone has to learn. You just need a good teacher.” A sly smile spread across his face.

Still holding his chin, Lucius then leaned in on Snape. “May I?” he asked.

Was he really asking permission to teach him? Such a question felt unexpectedly intimate and arousing, and there was no doubt in Snape’s mind that the answer was yes. He wanted Lucius to show him everything he knew. He nodded.

Lucius wet his lips before he met Snape’s in a gentle and tantalizing kiss. Careful at first, so they could explore each other, before their tongues met and it became heavier. One of Lucius’s hands went to the back of Snape’s neck while the other moved down to his hip. As he hungrily drew in every piece of Lucius he could through their kiss, Snape realised that the sweet aroma he had gotten a hint of earlier was Lucius’ natural taste. It was all him, pure and refined, and the realisation made Snape lightheaded.

Every touch felt like a current of electricity rushing through him and made the little hairs on his body stand up. He was not quite sure what to do with his own hands. He just knew that he wanted to touch Lucius, so he let them explore the man that was embracing him: running his fingers through his soft blond hair, messing up his always perfect hairstyle; feeling the muscles in his arms move under the luxurious fabric of his jacket; then moving down towards his trousers, curious as to what he might find there.

Snape was already hard, his cock straining against his trousers, desperate to come out. He wondered if Lucius was hard too, and not being particularly patient at the moment, Snape let his fingers graze Lucius’ crotch. There was no doubt that Lucius was hard himself, and he moaned into Snape’s mouth at his touch. Snape found it deeply fascinating and satisfying that such a small touch had that kind of an effect on him. Testingly, he touched him again, this time cupping him on the outside of his trousers. Lucius moaned again and pressed against Snape’s hand.

Snape started rubbing him, taking great satisfaction in how Lucius pulled away from their kiss and threw his head back a little, his now messy hair falling down his shoulders. He felt immensely powerful knowing that he was the cause of his pleasure. He made a move to open Lucius’ trousers, and was just about to unbutton them, when Lucius stopped him by forcefully grabbing his wrists.

“Did I do something wrong?” Snape asked, confused at Lucius’ sudden change in behaviour.

Lucius drew a deep breath and shook his head. “No,” he smiled. “You were quite good at improvising, as a matter of fact. But this is not the place, and it shouldn’t be about me.”

“It shouldn’t?” Snape was still a little bewildered at what was going on.

He shook his head. “As much as I would love for it to be, I can wait. Tonight should be about you. Let’s go.”

“Where?” Snape asked, although he honestly did not care where they were going as long as they were going there together and would continue what they had just started.

“The manor,” Lucius answered and disapparated.

Snape followed suit. Soon enough he found himself in the sitting room of the Malfoy Manor. He had been there a few times before, but never alone. It felt different when there was not a party with other people there. As if he got a peek into the real world of the infamous Malfoys.

Lucius rid himself of his Death Eater robes, and Snape removed his as well. Then Lucius found a bottle of what Snape assumed was whisky and poured it into two glasses. He took a small sip of one of them and handed the other one to Snape. He figured he might need the liquid courage, so he took a large sip. Then he watched as Lucius took off his jacket, folded it neatly, and carefully placed it on a chair nearby. He took out the pin in his cravat and removed the scarf from around his neck before he placed it on top of his jacket. He then removed his serpent cufflinks and skilfully rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

Snape found himself rather fascinated by this little ritual-like routine. “What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

“Making myself comfortable,” Lucius answered cheekily. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you comfortable too.”

Snape bit his lip. He could only imagine what that meant.

“This, for instance. You don’t need this.” Lucius tugged on Snape’s long, fitted jacket and helped him get out of it.

“And this. You don’t need this either,” he pointed out, unbuttoned Snape’s shirt slowly and slid it off him. Snape felt chills spread across his body as Lucius came in contact with his skin.

Just like with his own jacket, Lucius made sure to fold both garments and put them away properly.

“And these,” he finally said as he hooked his thumbs on the inside of Snape’s trouser edge. “You’ll be way more comfortable without them.”

Snape’s breath had settled down to an almost normal pace, but now it was picking up again. He found himself aroused by the way Lucius talked to him, and having his hands so close to his throbbing cock, made him writhe a little.

“Impatient, are we?” Lucius raised an eyebrow at him.

Snape answered with a small whimper.

“Well, in that case, I suppose I better get to it.”

Lucius began planting kisses on Snape’s naked upper body, trailing downwards from his collarbone to his chest and to his navel, where he followed the path of hair further down until it disappeared down Snape’s trousers. He squatted down in front of Snape, unbuttoned his trousers and slid them off. Then he reached up for his underpants and slowly pulled those down too.

Snape’s cock, which had been aching to get out, was finally free of the prison that was his trousers. He was completely naked now. He felt a little self-conscious, being the only one of them without any clothes, but he trusted Lucius, and mostly he was just excited about what was in store for him.

“I think you might want to sit down for this.” Lucius got up, put his palms on Snape’s chest and pushed him backwards into an armchair. “Now, sit back, relax and enjoy.”

Lucius got down on his knees in front of him. He gave Snape an alluring, crooked smile as he slowly slid his hands up his thighs. He was such a tease, Snape could barely stand it. Then Lucius’ experienced fingers stroked the underside of Snape’s length, and Snape jerked at the touch. He wrapped his hand around its base and slowly, lazily almost, began sliding his hand up and down. Snape’s eyes fluttered closed and he leaned back in the chair.

As Lucius slicked a bead of precum with his thumb and circled it around the head of Snape’s cock, Snape moaned. Lucius held the slow and steady pace, lulling Snape into a delicious haze of delight and content.

Eventually, Lucius picked up the pace a little, gently squeezing the head of Snape’s cock every time he reached the top of it. Snape was practically hypnotized by the pleasure he was experiencing, and he arched his hips against Lucius, silently begging him for more of what he was already getting.

But instead of giving him more, Lucius stopped what he was doing. It took a few seconds before Snape even realised he had taken his hands away, and as he opened his eyes and looked down, he found himself taking in the most exquisite view he had ever seen in his life: his cock was proudly and vigorously protruding from his lap, and in front of it, was Lucius.

Then he watched as Lucius wet his lips, leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around Snape’s member. Snape gasped in shock at the indescribably delicious feeling. Lucius glanced up at him and held his gaze as he eased downward on his length, skilfully using his tongue against his sensitive skin.

Watching Lucius with his cock in his mouth, was driving Snape absolutely crazy. He could feel himself getting ever closer to a climax. He did not think he could hold on very long.

Lucius pulled back, licking broad strokes along Snape’s length as Snape whimpered and uncontrollably twisted underneath him. Then he took Snape’s cock in his mouth again, this time pressing his head almost all the way down to its base. He repeated it slowly a few times, pulling his head back and practically diving back down again. And then he quickened his pace, pressing Snape into long, deep, delicious thrusts.

“Lucius-” Snape panted. He meant to give him a warning, that he was coming, but his words disappeared in a series of harsh, unsteady breaths. His back instinctively arched as his muscles tensed, fingers dug into the fabric of the armrests of the chair. He cried out as he flooded Lucius’ mouth.

Lucius kept Snape in his mouth until his orgasmic cramps ended, and then he finished him with a long, achingly slow suck, cleaning him off. Snape, still panting, opened his eyes and looked at Lucius, who stood up, found a handkerchief in one of his pockets and dabbed it against his now somewhat swollen lips. He sat down on the armrest of Snape’s chair and gave him a deep kiss. Snape could taste the salty flavour of himself on him.

“Did you like it?” Lucius questioned him, as if asking was even necessary.

Snape was still dazed from his orgasm, but he scrambled himself up into a more upright position.

“I want to do the same to you,” he said, eager to return the favour.

Lucius smiled. “In due time,” he answered him as he stroked some of Snape’s hair out of his face. “There is no rush.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was that for first contact. I sure hope you enjoyed it as much as Snape did ;)


	5. Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yours was the first face that I saw  
> I think I was blind before I met you  
> I don’t know where I am  
> I don’t know where I’ve been  
> But I know where I want to go
> 
> \- Bright Eyes, “First day of my life”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_Early autumn 1978._

It was a lazy Sunday morning. Rays of sun were coming in through the large windows of the hotel room Snape and Lucius were staying at, bathing the room in a beautiful golden light. They had checked in at a muggle hotel, as they could not take the risk of being recognised at a wizarding establishment, so here they were.

Snape had pulled a chair up to the windows and was looking out at the city of London, contemplating the weekend he and Lucius had shared. It had been amazing. They had barely gotten out of bed, switching between talking, reading to each other, and making love. And Snape loved that. He loved that they could be together like that, without tiring of one another. But he hated that they had to hide. He wanted to walk down the streets holding Lucius’ hand; he wanted to kiss him in front of other people without anyone cringing at them; he wanted to shout from the rooftops that he was in love. But he could not. And he knew that Lucius could not. His family would never accept it. Would never accept them. He felt selfish thinking like this, when he should be enjoying the time they were spending together, but he could not help it. It was a bittersweet feeling knowing that Lucius was finally his, but not being able to tell anyone about it.

A pair of arms embraced Snape from behind and a kiss was planted on top of his head, sweeping away the heavy thoughts from Snape’s mind, making him smile instead.

“Haven’t I told you not to think?” Lucius told him jokingly. “You think too much, and when you do, you get a furrow right here.” He tilted Snape’s head back and kissed him between his eyebrows.

Snape frowned and tried to wiggle out of his grip, but Lucius was too strong, pinning him down to the chair with his arms.

“Oh no, I’m not letting you go that easily,” he smirked, knowing full well that he was the strongest of the two.

Snape realised that he would have to use cunning if he was going to get free.

“Ouch!” He called out and pretended to be in pain. Lucius let go of him immediately, and Snape jumped up from the chair. He laughed. “I can’t believe you fell for that again!”

The look of betrayal on Lucius’ face was overwhelming. “And I can’t believe you lied to me like that.” He put the back of his hand to his forehead. “Woe is me!”

“You’re a terrible actor,” Snape snorted as he tried to sneak past Lucius behind his back, but Lucius whipped around and caught him.

“And _you_ are terrible at sneaking,” said Lucius and locked Snape’s wrists in a tight grip behind his back. “You’re also a terrible singer.” Lucius planted a kiss on Snape’s neck. “And... you’re impatient.” He placed another kiss on the other side of Snape’s neck. “And Merlin help us all if anyone ever shows up late to an appointment with you. You’ll hold a grudge for weeks.” He licked Snape’s earlobe and Snape moaned. “I’m jesting, of course,” he continued as his eyes found Snape’s. “You’re perfect.”

Snape’s eyes instantly went to the floor at the compliment Lucius gave him. He struggled with compliments. They were foreign to him and made him feel awkward, especially these kinds of compliments. He did not know how to react to them, as he did not believe in them.

Lucius let go of the iron grip he had on Snape’s hands behind his back. “Look at me,” he told Snape.

Snape slowly lifted his head again, but his eyes darted around the room, too embarrassed to meet Lucius’ gaze. Lucius cupped his face in his hands, so Snape had no choice but to look at him.

“Don’t do that,” Lucius told him.

“Do what?” Snape asked, pretending not to know what he was talking about. But his voice was weak, giving him away.

“Doubt yourself. You shouldn’t do that. You have nothing to be neither insecure nor ashamed of. Quite the opposite. You excel at everything you do. You should stand tall and be proud of who you are.”

Snape blinked. Two voices inside of him were fighting. One telling him not to believe Lucius, as it could not possibly be true. His entire life was proof enough of that. But there was another one telling him to listen to Lucius, to take to heart what he said, because maybe - _maybe -_ he was telling the truth.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” he finally answered.

“You don’t have to say anything. Just don't do it anymore.”

 

* * *

 

_Late autumn 1978._

Snape looked up. A large chandelier was hanging over his head. The many crystals that decorated it, twinkled and gave off a soft, warm light. His gaze shifted and he took in the rest of the front hall of the opera. It was a grand marble feast. The cold, beautiful stone covered both the floor, walls and ceiling, with golden details meticulously painted onto the many carvings. A soft, blue carpet ran along the floors and up the stairs, to muffle the echo from the stone and the high ceilings.

Around him, men and women in evening wear, holding wine glasses, were conversing before tonight’s show: Faust. Snape was wearing an all black suit himself, and he had slicked his hair back for once. He felt strangely exposed with his hair out of his face, but at least he looked as if he belonged at the opera.

“Boo!” a voice close to his ear sounded.

Snape was not startled. Nor was there any need to turn around to find out who the voice belonged to. “Hello, Lucius,” he greeted his lover casually.

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Lucius complained. “You’re impossible to sneak up on.”

Snape shrugged. “Would you rather have me shriek like a banshee whenever you come near me?”

Lucius served him a sly smile, then leaned a little closer and whispered: “Well, I have made you scream before.”

Snape was about to comment back, but just then he spotted the Minister for Magic walking towards them. He cleared his throat to warn Lucius, who looked up and immediately put on that overbearing smile he always used around people he disliked but had to be nice to to get what he wanted.

“Minister Minchum,” Lucius greeted the Minister and gave a quick nod. Then he turned to a short, plump woman with a pretty face next to him, took her hand and kissed it. “Mrs. Minchum, you look as lovely as ever.”

“Oh you!” Mrs. Minchum giggled back at him like a schoolgirl, her cheeks blushing a little. Snape was once again impressed at how easily Lucius was able to wrap people around his finger.

“Lucius,” Minister Minchum greeted him back.

Snape shot a quick look at Lucius. He knew two things: that Lucius did not like it when people he were not friends with called him by his first name, and that Lucius despised the Minister. He was good at keeping his feelings in check however, and it was barely noticeable how his fingers tightened ever so slightly around his snake cane.

The annoying unfortunate fact was that Minister Minchum was very good at his job, and it was of utter importance to stay friendly with him. This was the entire reason they were at the opera in the first place. The Minister had invited Lucius along as a friend, and it was his job to go to keep the wheels greased.

“And this is?” Minister Minchum turned to Snape with a questioning face.

Lucius reached his arm out and put it on Snape’s back. “This is my dear friend, Severus Snape.”

 _Friend_. That dreaded word. Snape knew, of course, that he could not be introduced as anything else, but that did not mean it did not hurt. He wondered if there would come a day when he could be introduced as something different. As a boyfriend. A partner. But he could not think about that now, so he pushed the thoughts out of his mind and decided to focus on the “dear” in Lucius’ introduction instead.

The Minister shook Snape’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Severus.”

Apparently, Minister Minchum was one for first names. “The pleasure is all mine, Minister.”

He turned to Mrs. Minchum, and he too took her hand and kissed it. He could be charming when he needed to be. He just did not like to pose and pretend. He was not like Lucius, who reveled in games of deception, and who enjoyed nothing more than getting his enemies to think he was on their side.

The lights in the hall blinked, indicating the opera would soon start.

“Shall we find our seats?” The Minister gestured towards the stairs and gave his arm to his wife.

“Certainly,” Lucius answered.

Snape and Lucius walked behind the Minister and his wife to their private box. The whole way there Snape could feel Lucius’ hand close to his lower back, not actually touching him, but hovering close. Protective. Possessive. Snape smiled to himself.

The four of them settled down in their private box. The Minister and his wife in the two front seats, Snape and Lucius in the two behind them. So close, yet almost invisible. _Perfect,_  Snape thought to himself. He had a little surprise in store for Lucius, that he knew Lucius would both love and hate him for.

The lights dimmed and the music started. Snape patiently waited through the first act before he leaned over and whispered into Lucius’ ear: “I want you.”

Snape could see how Lucius’ lips suddenly parted in surprise, and he was just about to turn his head when Snape slid his hand between his thighs and placed it on his crotch.

“Severus, what are you doing?” Lucius asked in a whisper.

“Taking what I want,” Snape answered innocently and gently started rubbing Lucius, who drew a deep breath and parted his legs a little more in response.

As he kept stroking and rubbing, Snape could feel Lucius go hard, and as soon as he felt that, he unbuttoned a couple of buttons in Lucius’ trousers and snuck his hand down them. He quickly found what he was looking for and gently wrapped his fingers around Lucius’ length. As he started pumping him, Lucius let out a moan. The second it came out of his mouth, Lucius seemed to realise what his body had instinctively done, and opened his closed eyes in slight fear. Snape could not keep himself from snickering.

“Are you two doing alright back here?”

The Minister turned around in his chair and looked at Snape and Lucius with a somewhat annoyed expression. Lucius quickly threw his coat over his lap so the Minister would not see what Snape was doing to him. Snape, on the other hand, wanted to have more fun, and he squeezed his hand a little tighter around Lucius’s cock and continued to pump it.

Lucius let out another involuntary sound, before he bent forward over his own lap, pretending to clutch his stomach, while in reality he was grabbing a hold of Snape’s hand, keeping him from moving it.

At that point, Mrs. Minchum turned around in her chair as well. “What’s going on?” She gasped when she saw Lucius and her face got a worried expression. “Are you feeling alright?”

Snape was able to withdraw his hand from Lucius’ lap without the Minchums noticing, and pretending to be concerned for his lover’s health, he put it around his shoulders instead. 

“I’m terribly sorry, Minister, Mrs. Minchum. Lucius isn’t feeling well. I have to get him home,” Snape explained as he helped Lucius to his feet.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucius said as he ducked out of the door to the private box.

Snape followed right behind him, and the second he closed the door behind him, he broke out laughing. “Did you see their faces?”

Lucius gave him a dark look, before he pushed Snape up against the wall. “You are a _very_ bad boy.”

“I know,” Snape smirked back at him.

Lucius arched an eyebrow. “I will get you back for this.”

“I was certainly hoping.”

One of Lucius’ hands reached behind Snape’s back, grabbed a hold of his ass and pulled him towards him. Snape could feel that he was still hard.

“I think, perhaps, you want me too,” Snape said teasingly.

Lucius answered him by giving him a deep, hungry kiss. When he pulled away, his breath was heavy. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was finally time for some fluff. These babies are just too cute together.


	6. Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you feel the same when I'm away from you?  
> Do you know the line that I'd walk for you?  
> We could turn around, or we could give it up  
> But we'll take what comes, take what comes
> 
> \- Imagine Dragons, “Walking the wire”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_Winter 1979._

It was supposed to be an easy mission. A quick “in and out” job, with minimal risk and no chance of fighting. But something had gone wrong. Someone must have tipped off the Ministry, because the second Snape, Lucius, Rosier and Wilkes entered the dark building, clad in their Death Eater robes, they were surrounded by Aurors.

One of the Aurors stepped forward, pointing his wand at the four of them. He was a large man, and he was partly balancing his weight on a wooden leg with a clawed foot. His clothes were tattered from damage, his skin scarred and rough, almost like carved wood, and he had grey, grizzled hair. But his most remarkable feature, were his eyes: one was small and dark while the other was vivid, electric blue - a magical eye that moved around independently from his normal eye. Snape was all too aware of who he was looking at: Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody. One of the greatest Aurors out there. He looked the way he did for a reason: because he was exceptionally good at his job. He was not to be underestimated.

Mad-Eye spoke: “Now, gentlemen and perhaps -women. You have broken in, and thereby broken the law. This can go down one out of two ways: you can come quietly with us now, or we will have to-”

Before he was even able to finish his sentence, a curse shot out from Snape’s right, aiming straight for Mad-Eye. It was Rosier, acting before thinking as always, with no regard for the consequences. Not that going with the Aurors was an option. They would have to fight. But Snape saw it as common courtesy to at least hear the man out before they started dueling.

Mad-Eye, however, skilfully, almost lazily, blocked the curse. He sighed: “Well, if that’s your answer.”

The Aurors were quick, trained and skilled at dueling as they were. But Snape was quicker, and he knew Lucius was too. Rosier and Wilkes were not as fast, but they were dirty fighters. Despite being outnumbered almost two to one, they should be able to win the fight.

It went well at first. The four of them used the darkness to their advantage, slipping in and out of the shadows, slinging spells and curses at the Aurors, who tried their best to block and fight back.

Snape hid behind a large shelf and watched as one of the Aurors walked straight past him, then he pointed his wand at her. “ _Sectumsempra!_ ”

She gasped as the spell hit her, and she turned around in shock to see him lurking in the shadows. He watched as the blood started pooling from large wounds on her body, before she collapsed in front of him.

“ _Crucio!”_ Snape heard somewhere in the darkness and a spell flew past him. At first he thought it was one of his own shooting at another Auror hiding somewhere close to him, but then he saw Mad-Eye step out from the shadows.

Snape dived to get out of his way. The Aurors were using unforgivable curses now? He barely had time to think the thought before the fight seemed to turn. He came back into the larger part of the building they had first entered and watched just as Wilkes got flanked by two Aurors. Wilkes could do nothing but stand down, unless he wanted to get killed.

Someone else was running towards them. Out of the shadows came Lucius. He took one look at Wilkes and yelled: “Get out - now!” Wilkes disapparated a second later, leaving the Aurors who thought they had trapped him, behind.

Snape saw it just in time. Mad-Eye had followed Lucius without him noticing, and as if in slow motion, Snape watched as Mad-Eye pointed his wand at Lucius and worded _Crucio_. Snape did not have time to think. He acted completely on impulse, and his reflex was to push Lucius out of the way of the curse.

The Cruciatus curse hit him in the left side, and Snape immediately felt a pain rush through his body, so horrific he opened his mouth in a scream. It felt as if his body was being ripped apart and as if something was eating him from the inside out. There was nothing but pain. Terrifying, unbearable pain. He could think of only one thing: to make it stop. He ripped his clothes off the best he could and started scratching at his skin to get to the creatures that were inside him, devouring him alive. But no matter how hard he scratched and how much skin he was able to peel off himself, he could not get to the creatures, and the pain worsened every second.

He tripped over his own feet and fell face first down on the floor. He wanted to get up, but the pain was too severe. He moved his head and through a haze he could see someone approaching him: a tall, dark figure, and Snape swore that a halo of light shone around it. An angel. It bent down in front of him and took his hand. Then everything went dark.

 

 

 

> _Snape found himself in a long, winding hallway. He looked in front of him and then behind him, but the hallway seemed to be never ending in either direction. It would not matter which way he went, so he started walking forward. But as he started moving, so did something else. Snape stopped and looked behind him again. He could not see anything, but he could feel that something was there. Something dark and dangerous hiding just outside his field of view. He could not say why he knew it was so dangerous, but he knew that he could not let it catch him._
> 
> _He started walking again, and he walked and walked for what seemed like ages, until he finally came to a door. He opened it and came into a royal blue room. It had a glass ceiling and a glass floor and in the middle of the room stood a single, golden chair. There were doors on each wall. Which one should he choose? Was there a right or wrong door?_
> 
> _As he was standing there, reflecting on which door to pick, there came a growling from the something that was following him, and although Snape still could not see it, he knew that it was speeding up and coming closer. He had to choose a door, and he had to choose it quickly. He decided to go for the doors opposite of where he came in. They were double and the only ones that stood out in any way. He opened them and stepped through to another room._
> 
> _It was a strange room that seemed to have no walls, but instead trees were making up the outskirts of it, and through them he could see a brilliant pink sunset. A dining table stood in the middle of the room, set up for seven people: glasses, plates, food, candlesticks. Everything needed for a dinner party was there. All you had to do was sit down and eat. But Snape could not sit down, because the something following him was now scratching at the door he came through, and he needed to keep moving for it not to catch him. The only problem was that this room did not have any more doors. Where was he supposed to go? The door behind him seemed to be close to coming off its hinges, and in a bit of a panic, Snape ran towards the trees hoping he could get through them. He reached them and they bent to the side, allowing him to enter a new room, just as he could hear the dangerous something break through the door behind him._
> 
> _The new room was an actual room again. It was baroque in design, with sky blue walls and golden ornaments. The ceiling had a large mural painted on it and several smaller chandeliers were hanging from it. There were windows here, but there was no view, only very bright light coming through them. At the opposite end of the room, there seemed to be two doors, covered by curtains. Left or right door? Would it matter which one he chose? He walked towards the left one, but he never reached it before the something reached him. It had snuck up on him, and Snape only noticed just as it was about to pounce on him. Looking directly at it, he could finally see what it was. Distorted and moving rapidly, the something was a creature continually changing form from one person he knew to the next: his father, his mother, the Marauders, Lily, Lord Voldemort. “You are pathetic. You are worthless. You are nothing,” they told him. “Give up now. You will never find him. You will never find your way out of here.”_
> 
> _As terrified as the creature made him, Snape could not help but feel that the words it spoke, were true. He was so used to not believing in himself that giving in to doubt, came instinctively. He started moving towards it, and the creature opened its many arms to welcome him._
> 
> _Then, a musical sound somewhere off in the distance made his mind clear up. An organ was playing on the other side of the curtain. Snape stopped. What was he doing? He couldnot give into this. Instead, he turned and scampered towards the door._
> 
> _“No!” screamed the creature's many voices. It dived after him and grabbed his leg, but Snape shook it off. He got a hold of the curtain and fell through to a new room._
> 
> _Everything was white. Snape had to blink a few times to get used to the bright angelic light that flooded the large room. It looked like an art gallery. Statues on pedestals were placed on either sides against the walls, making up what seemed to be a path. Somewhere that organ was playing. Snape did not notice it at first, but he suddenly realised that he was completely relaxed in this space. The feeling of being haunted was gone. What did it mean? Was this somehow the end of the strange labyrinth he had been walking through? And if this was the end, what would happen next?_
> 
> _He started walking the path between the pedestals, and that is when he saw it: a large marble statue with black wings kneeling in front of him. An angel. Snape carefully walked towards it and climbed the few steps up to it. He stood in front of it for a little while, simply admiring it. It was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen before in his life. He reached his hand out and gently caressed the angel’s cold, perfect cheek. Then he leaned in and kissed it. Its lips were cold, but still felt inviting and warm - as if it wanted to be kissed. When he pulled back, the angel started to crack. Snape looked on in horror as he witnessed how the angel fell apart right in front of him. Piece by piece it fell to the ground, until it revealed a naked man on his knees with his back turned against him. Two large open wounds covered his upper back. Two wounds where his wings should have been. The fallen angel turned around to reveal his face: Lucius._

Snape opened his eyes. He was looking at an unfamiliar roof. Dark, rich wood. And the bed was not his either. It was way too big and way too comfortable. What was this place?

Memories from the fight came back to him then. He remembered. He had saved Lucius from being hit by the Cruciatus curse and ended up getting hit himself instead. He did not remember any details, but he remembered pain, and then blacking out. He realised that the roof and the bed could only belong to one place: the Malfoy Manor. Lucius must have taken him there after he got hurt.

Snape turned his head slowly and saw Lucius sitting in a chair next to the bed. Snape smiled at him. The thought of him having sat there, watching over him, made his chest grow warm. Lucius, however, did not smile back.

With some difficulty, Snape sat up in bed. He was a little groggy. It felt like he had been out for ages. “How long did I sleep?”

“Four days,” Lucius answered plainly.

Had he really been out for four days? It could not possibly have been that bad. It did not feel like it had been that bad. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at Lucius again, only now noticing the expression on his face. He looked angry, and he was glaring at Snape.

“How are you feeling?” Lucius asked him, but there was no sympathy to be found in his voice. No warmth or care. It was ice cold.

“I’m okay, I think,” Snape answered. There was still some minor pain and he had a headache, but there was nothing to speak of, really.

“Good,” said Lucius and got up from the chair. “Because then I can ask you what the hell you were thinking back there?”

Having just woken up, Snape felt confused. He did not understand why Lucius was mad. “I don’t… what?”

“How could you be so stupid?! You threw yourself in front of me like some knight from a children’s fairytale, taking a shot that should have hit me!”

Snape blinked. He had no idea why Lucius was angry at him, and being unjustifiably yelled at, made him grow rather irritated himself. “What are you talking about? Are you angry I saved you from being hit by a curse?”

“I DON’T NEED SAVING, SEVERUS!” Lucius thundered, his voice vibrating with fury, eyes wide, hands balled up into fists. “You are not my bodyguard and it is not your job to protect me!”

Snape almost gaped at Lucius. He had never seen him like this before. Lucius was not the type of man to lose his cool - ever. He was always so composed, in control. But now he was raging like a madman.

“I didn’t realise you were too dumb to grasp the fact that we are at war. This isn’t a game we are playing,” Lucius scoffed.

Snape was getting fed up. He was still tired and the headache was getting worse from the yelling. Still, he tried to be calm when he spoke: “I do understand that. Stop talking to me like I’m an ignorant child.”

Lucius shook his head. “You obviously don’t understand or you wouldn’t have pulled that ridiculous stunt. You had _no_ business sacrificing yourself on my behalf!”

“Sacrificing myself?” Snape asked incredulously.

“You took a curse that was meant for me!” Lucius slammed one of his fists into his chest to emphasize his point.

Snape, feeling more than done with the fight, shrugged, leaned back in bed and said: “You’re obviously overreacting to this. Why don’t you take a walk and come back when you have calmed down?”

He did not mean for it to come out as demeaning as it did, but he had reached his boiling point. As much as he respected Lucius, he had crossed the line with this condescending act, and Snape was not taking it anymore.

Lucius looked as if Snape had slapped him in the face. He stared at him before he turned on his heel and walked angrily towards the door, but he stopped with his hand on the door handle. “You don’t remember what happened, do you?”

Lucius’ voice was calm again and it surprised Snape how quickly he had gone from being furious to sounding almost defeated.

“I remember that I was hit by the curse. And I remember that it hurt - a lot,” he answered casually.

“But you don’t remember what you did.” Snape could see how Lucius’ head bent lower and his shoulders sank when he uttered the statement.

“No, I… I just thought I blacked out.” For the first time, Snape looked down at his own body. Not yet healed wounds covered with scabs peaked out from under the pyjamas shirt he was wearing. He pulled it off and realised they covered both his arms and part of his chest. “What happened?”

Lucius turned around and walked over to the bed again. He looked at Snape with a painful expression. “You tried to claw your own skin off,” he finally said. “There was blood everywhere. I had to bring you back here and treat you to the best of my knowledge. I couldn’t exactly take you to St. Mungo’s.”

Snape finally understood. This was why Lucius had been so angry. He had been worried. He could only imagine how he himself would have reacted if the same thing happened to Lucius.

“I should have taken that curse,” Lucius said bitterly. “I should have been the one to get hurt. Not you.”

“Lucius,” Snape spoke softly. He grabbed Lucius’ hand and forced him to sit down next to him on the bed. “You told me earlier that it’s not my job to protect you. It’s not yours to protect me either.”

“Yet, here I am,” Lucius sighed, resigned.

“And here I am,” Snape said. He reached out and caressed Lucius’ cheek.

Lucius grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. His cold, grey eyes met Snape’s, and he was dead serious when he said: “Don’t you dare do that again. I will never forgive you if you die because of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally snuck some k-pop into this chapter. BTS' music videos work excellent as confusing dreams, okay. Sorry not sorry ;)


	7. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold me  
> Even though I know you’re leaving  
> And show me  
> All the reasons you would stay  
> It’s just enough to feel your breath on mine  
> To warm my soul and ease my mind
> 
> \- Mindy Smith, “One moment more”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_Spring 1979._

Snape was sitting comfortably in his armchair in the living room and had been engulfed in a book the last few hours. Yawning, he put the book down, stretched and glanced at the old grandfather clock in the corner. It was just past midnight. He should really get to bed, but as he stood up from the chair, there was a loud knock on the front door.

There had rarely been visitors at the Snape-Prince household when Snape was a child, and after he took over the house recently, there had been none. Suffice it to say, Snape was rather surprised and a little bit sceptical when he heard the knock. Even more so considering the time.

Gripping his wand firmly in his hand he walked to the front door. He opened it and in stumbled a very unsteady and tattered looking Lucius. Completely unlike his usual dapper appearance, his hair was messy, he had a swollen eye, his nose was bleeding and it looked as if it might be broken.

Snape had not heard a word from Lucius for more than two weeks. He was a busy man for sure, but it was not like him to cut contact for such a long time. Snape had been a little worried, but at the same time he had not wanted to be a bother by nagging Lucius if he had something important to do. So he had decided to not contact him. Looking at Lucius now, beaten up as he was, Snape greatly regretted not having tried to get in touch.

Lucius lost his balance coming in through the door and Snape had to catch him to make sure he did not hit the floor. As he grabbed him with both hands to hold him steady, Snape could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Are you drunk?” Snape asked him. While Lucius certainly enjoyed a drink every now and then, he was not the type of person to get drunk. He found it tasteless.

“Just a tad,” he answered, letting out a small hoarse laugh. Then he tried to wipe his nose with his sleeve, but winced in pain.

“We have to get you patched up,” said Snape. Still holding onto Lucius, he guided him into the living room and sat him down on the sofa. “What happened?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“Well, you see, there was this very rude Muggle. I was just trying to enjoy my drink in peace when he came up to me and made fun of my hair. And my attire. And my cane. So I told him to shut his muddy mouth. And then he punched me in the face,” Lucius explained.

Snape looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. “Let me get this straight.” Snape was trying to wrap his head around the surreal situation. “You were at a Muggle bar? And you got punched in the face by a Muggle?”

Lucius shrugged. “And then we were thrown out on the street, where he punched me again. I couldn’t use magic on him, so I whacked him with my cane instead.” He pointed to his cane on the floor. “Did you know that this thing can do quite a lot of damage to someone if you hit them hard enough?”

Snape gaped at Lucius. This was so out of character for him it was as if he was talking to a different person. The Lucius he knew would never do this kind of thing. Getting into a fist fight? With a Muggle? And why was he at a Muggle bar in the first place? Lucius did not frequent the Muggle world unless he absolutely had to.

“Why were you even there?” Snape asked confused.

Lucius went silent, his eyes fixed on a spot somewhere behind Snape. He suddenly seemed sober. He did not say anything for a long time, and when he finally spoke, his voice was dark. “I had a… falling out… with my father.”

Even though Lucius never spoke about his father, Snape knew that Lucius’ relationship with him was a complex one. Lucius seemed to both respect and admire Abraxas in some aspects, but disagree greatly with him in others. He expected a lot from Lucius, and Snape could only imagine what it was like to be the sole heir of one of the oldest, richest and most famous wizarding families in the country.

Snape had more questions, but Lucius’ expression made it quite clear that he did not want to discuss the issue further. Either way it was more important to heal him, so Snape pushed all the questions out of his mind and drew his wand instead. “Don’t move, please,” he said and pointed his wand at Lucius’ nose. “ _Episkey_.”

The healing spell worked quickly, and soon enough Lucius’ nose was unbroken again. Then Snape got up, walked into the kitchen and unlocked his potions cupboard, where he pulled out a small bottle of Wiggenweld potion. Back in the living room, he handed the bottle to Lucius. “Drink this,” he commanded him. “It will heal any other minor damages you have. Like that bruised eye.”

Lucius thankfully did as he was told, then sank back in the sofa. “Severus,” he said quietly, not looking at him. “Can I spend the night here?”

“Of course,” Snape answered him. He thought it strange that Lucius felt the need to ask permission. True enough, he had never actually been to his house before, but Snape thought it obvious that his home was open to him.

Lucius reached out for him then, held his chin like he sometimes did and studied his face for such a long time Snape began feeling uncomfortable.

“Lucius-”

Lucius leaned in and kissed him. Soft at first, but then he turned rougher, grabbing Snape with both hands and pressing his mouth to his, forcing his tongue through his lips. Snape barely had time to react before Lucius was on top of him on the sofa, tearing his clothes off to find skin. When he found what he was looking for, he hungrily dived down to kiss, lick and bite him. Snape was gasping underneath him. This was something new. He did not mind it though. Not at all.

“Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?” Snape was finally able to get in somewhere between struggling to catch his breath and Lucius devouring him.

Lucius answered him with something resembling a snarl, but got up from the sofa and pushed Snape in front of him to show him the bedroom.

They made love that night, but it was different. Lucius always made love to Snape as if he could not get enough of him, but this was not in the thirsty and indulging way he usually did. This was desperate and almost angry. He was holding him harder, scratching him, biting him, piercing him. It was not painful, but it was unlike him. Lucius was not an impatient lover. He always took his time, enjoyed the little things. But now he was rushing, and he seemed detached, not at all present. Snape did not understand what had changed, but he let Lucius do it. Let him have his desperate way with him.

When Snape woke up the next morning, Lucius was not in the bed next to him and his clothes were gone from the floor. Snape listened for any unfamiliar sounds in the house, telling him if perhaps Lucius was still in it, but he could not hear anything. His heart sank a little at the thought that Lucius had simply left without saying anything. Something was wrong and Snape wished Lucius would talk to him about it instead of running away.

He got out of bed, got dressed and walked into the living room where he almost jumped when he found Lucius sitting in his armchair. He looked like his old self again: clothes clean and immaculate, hair combed and pulled back into a flawless ponytail. There was no sign of the beaten Lucius from the night before. But there was something that was not quite right. He looked as if a dark cloud was hanging over him.

“Do me a favour and don’t come any closer,” Lucius spoke.

Snape furrowed his brow. He suddenly felt on guard. “Why?” He asked, but he stayed put.

“I have something I need to tell you,” Lucius went on. His voice sounded steady, but there was an almost undetectable tremble in it. Snape doubted anyone but him would have noticed it.

Snape did not say anything. He kept his eyes on Lucius, watching his every move, waiting for him to tell him whatever it was he needed to say.

Lucius took a deep breath then, as if he was steeling himself, looked Snape straight in the eye and said: “I’m getting married.”

It felt as if someone punched him in the stomach and knocked the wind out of him. Snape was not sure if he had heard Lucius correctly. He could not have heard him correctly. He was getting married? How could that be? It did not make any sense.

“I’m sorry, what?” was all he was able to say.

Lucius cocked his head a little to the side but kept looking at him. He repeated the statement. He was getting married. He was definitely getting married. Snape had not misheard. It was not his ears or his mind playing tricks on him. The man sitting in front of him, the man he loved, was getting married. A sick feeling was building up inside of him and for a moment he thought he might throw up. He did not understand, and trying to wrap his mind around it made his head hurt.

All Snape could say was: “Who?”

Lucius folded his hands in his lap. “Narcissa Black.”

 _Of course_ , Snape thought. He should have known that it was her. It could not be anyone else. She was a beautiful witch from a prestigious pureblood family. They would be great together. They would dazzle any room they walked into. They would be the envy of the wizarding world.

“She is a beautiful and elegant woman with many great qualities. I consider myself very lucky to be able to be with her,” Lucius told him.

Snape’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Was he really sitting there and telling him about how good she was? How much better than him she was? How much more socially acceptable she was? How much better she fit into the picture frame of his perfect pureblood family? How he would not have to hide her or be ashamed of her?

No, it was not true. It could not be true. Snape shook his head. “I don’t believe you,” he said.

Lucius sighed. “We both knew this couldn’t last, Severus.” He said it so matter-of-factly, almost nonchalant.

A sting somewhere deep inside Snape told him that this was true. The thought had struck him many times, but he had always pushed it out of his mind, ignored it.

Snape’s shoulders fell. “I thought we had something special,” he said in a hushed, pained voice.

Lucius scoffed at him. “You cannot possibly have been that naive, to think that the two of us would be together forever?”

His words felt like a slap in the face. Why was he being so cold and insensitive? It was like Lucius wanted to hurt him.

A sudden anger rushed through Snape. “Don’t say that! Don’t make light of what we have!”

“Listen to me, Severus,” Lucius said in an exasperated sigh. “We had fun, but now it’s time to part ways.”

A realisation hit Snape then. This situation was not real. It was an act. Lucius was playing pretend. He said himself yesterday that he had had a falling out with his father. It must have been about this. The way he was acting... He was being the Lucius he portrayed to the outside world. The cold, arrogant, careless Lucius. Not the Lucius Snape knew. Not the real Lucius. He had raised his walls to protect himself and to keep Snape out. That is why he wanted him at a distance right now. It made sense, but it also made Snape angry. If he was somehow ending this, could he not at least give him the decency of being honest?

Snape was not going to let him get away with it. “Why are you saying that? Why are you talking as if this doesn’t mean anything to you? As if _I_ don’t mean anything to you!” Very carefully he started moving towards Lucius.

“Severus-” Lucius warned him. He did not like that he was getting closer.

“No, I won’t let you do this. I won’t let you just walk away. I love you!” Snape told him.

Lucius did not respond. For the first time during the conversation, he did not meet Snape’s eyes.

“And you love me,” Snape continued, still moving towards him, almost over by the chair now. “I know you do.”

“Stop it!” Lucius suddenly barked angrily. He got up from the chair and moved further away from Snape. He was clearly upset, but Snape refused to believe that it was because of him. He was just taking it out on him, because there was no one else he could turn to.

The two of them stood facing each other for a moment, Snape’s hand halfway reaching out for Lucius. The silence was choking. Snape could feel it gripping like a claw inside his throat. He swallowed.

Then Lucius drew a deep breath, trying to collect himself again, but he sounded defeated more than anything else when spoke. “Don’t make this matter any more difficult than it already is.”

“Lucius, please-” Snape begged him. He was getting desperate.

Lucius shook his head at him. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Casting a final look at him, Lucius turned his back on Snape and walked away. The slam of the door behind him echoed through the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually kind of difficult to write. As much as I enjoy writing angst, I have become attached to these two, and now I want them to be happy.


	8. Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had all and then most of you  
> Some and now none of you  
> Take me back to the night we met  
> I don't know what I'm supposed to do  
> Haunted by the ghost of you  
> Oh, take me back to the night we met
> 
> \- Lord Huron, “The night we met”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_Spring 1979._

It was late in the evening and it was raining heavily. It was as if the sky had burst open and water was pooling out of it, creating rivers in the streets and drenching anything and everything that dared to go outside. Snape was standing in the middle of the street in Godric’s Hollow, looking at a two story cobblestone cottage with a small gate and a hedge surrounding its front yard. Warm yellow light was coming from the downstairs windows and he could see two figures moving inside the living room. He had been standing in the rain looking at them for a while already, trying to build up the courage to knock on the door.

Lily and Snape had not seen or spoken to each other since right after their graduation from Hogwarts. Their lives took a violently different turn from one another when Lily and James got engaged and later married, and Snape decided to join the Death Eaters. She had been so mad at him when he told her that he was going to join them. As much as she knew that he had always been attracted to the Dark Arts, she never thought he would do something so stupid as becoming a Death Eater, she had spat at him in disgust. How, she had asked him, could he join a group of murderers working for a twisted, inhuman cause led by a evil monster? A monster who wished people like her dead? He had tried to explain himself, tried to make her see his side. After all, he was a halfblood, and the Dark Lord still welcomed him into his ranks. It was not all about blood. It was about skill and what you could offer the cause as a witch or wizard. And it was about believing in the wizarding community and wanting to make it better. It had not ended well. She had screamed at him and he had yelled at her, before they had both stormed off.

Snape took a deep breath and then walked through the small gate leading to the Potter house and up to their door. He lifted his hand, hesitated for a moment, and then knocked three times. He did not have to wait long before the door opened and he found himself face to face with James. Snape knew there was a chance he would meet him, but James obviously had not expected to find Snape outside their door in the pouring rain late in the evening. He stared at Snape, then frowned in suspicion and opened his mouth to say something. But just as he was about to speak, Snape’s eyes went to the ground. Snape had always and defiantly met James’ gaze. He had never backed down from that silent war. But this time he did not have the strength within him to fight. He did not want to. And James must have somehow understood, because instead of saying anything to Snape, he called into the house.

“Lily! You have a guest!”

A moment later, Lily’s auburn head appeared behind James. “Who is it, sweet-”

She stopped mid-sentence when she saw Snape. She stared at him with large, green eyes before she turned to James, and with just a look told him to leave them alone.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Snape told her in a defeated voice.

It had been twelve days since Lucius left him, and when he did, something else had appeared in his stead. An empty space. A silence. Where he used to be, not just physically, but the space he had occupied in Snape’s heart and mind, was now an open void. It was as if a darkness had come along and swallowed what was there, leaving behind absolutely nothing. And that feeling, the feeling that a part of himself was missing, was something he could not handle.

He had to shut that emptiness out, because if he paid attention to it he would remember Lucius’ face, and his chest would tighten and he would feel a hint of panic coming on. He would remember the touch of Lucius’ fingers, which he could still feel on his skin if he closed his eyes, and then that chest pain would turn worse and his breath would become rapid and shallow. And then he would remember that Lucius was not there anymore, and that is when his throat would completely close up and he would have to gasp for air because it would feel like he was slowly drowning.

“For the love of Merlin, Sev, come inside. You’re soaked through.” Lily ushered him inside.

Snape followed her into the kitchen, where she sat him down by the table. Lily then pulled her wand out, waved it and pointed it at his clothes. Hot air streamed out of the tip and his clothes began to steam as they dried.

“Oh, thank you,” Snape told her. He had barely noticed how wet he was. He had not paid attention to how the rain had drenched him while he was standing outside. His mind had been elsewhere.

“We wouldn’t want you to get sick now, would we,” she said with a soft smile. Then she asked: “Tea?”

Snape nodded. Maybe tea would not be so bad right now. Lily flicked her wand and the tea began making itself. She waited for it to be done, then poured it into two cups and handed one of them to Snape before she sat down.

“So…” she began, a little awkward. “It’s been a long time.”

“I know.” He was not quite sure what he should say. He had wanted to come, but now that he was here, he felt strange.

The two of them sat in silence a long time. Lily held the cup of tea between her hands and nipped at it every once in awhile. Snape stared down into his own cup, not touching it. Lily cleared her throat and Snape looked up at her. Was she going to say something? She turned her head and looked out the window, into the darkness. No, she was not going to say anything.

Snape could not take the silence any longer. “I’m sorry,” he burst out.

Lily quickly turned her head and met his eyes. She put her cup down, grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “I’m sorry too, Sev.”

An unexpected lump lurked at the back of Snape’s throat. He swallowed to get rid of it. The apology had cleared the air and loosened some of the tension between them. Perhaps he could tell her now. He could at least try.

“Lucius and I ended it,” he said. That was not completely true. It was not a lie, but it was far removed from what had actually happened. He was not sure why, but as he spoke he realised he did not feel comfortable enough to tell her the full story.

“Oh,” Lily responded, somewhat surprised. “I wasn’t aware you were even together.”

Snape gave a dry laugh, and then he said bitterly: “No, you wouldn’t be. No one was.”

Lily studied him. She had done that since she was little, and she had always been good at reading him, but this time she seemed to not get a good grip on him. “I’m sure you’re hurting, Sev. After all, I recall how much you told me you loved him.”

She kept looking at him with sad eyes. Was she… pitying him?

He reacted on instinct, saying: “Don’t pity me, Lily.” His voice was suddenly a little darker.

“What? No, I… I would never. I was just…” she stammered.

“You just felt sorry for me,” he pointed out, not letting her finish her sentence. Resentment was rising in him.

“Sev, no, I was just trying to imagine how you felt!” she defended herself. “I don’t want this to get the better of you. You can find someone else who will make you happy - just like I have.”

Snape looked around him then - at the cosy kitchen he was sitting in, where a pair of dirty plates and glasses were sitting in the sink; out into the hallway where he could see photographs hanging on the wall of Lily and James together; at the closed door leading from the hallway into the living room where he knew James was sitting; back to Lily and the simple gold wedding ring on her left hand. All these things were normal things, but they were also things he would never be able to have, and she did not understand that. As much as she wanted or tried to, she could never understand how looking at someone else’s everyday life, felt like being spat in the face. This was not just about a relationship ending. It was as much, if not even more, about not being able to grieve it. He could not tell anyone about Lucius when they were together, and he could not tell anyone about him now that he was out of his life. It was as if the two of them had never existed as a couple. And that... that hurt more than anything.

Snape could feel his chest tighten. It had been a mistake coming here. He had had a fleeting hope that if he went to Lily, they could go back to how they once were, as if nothing had ever happened. But too much had changed. They were both so different from who they were a short year ago, and the deep friendship they once had simply was not there anymore. He was glad that she was happy, but the life she was living was so far removed from his own and what he could ever have, it felt foreign to him. Almost incomprehensible.

He got up from his chair a little too quick and knocked over the cup of tea he still had not touched. The cup shattered and the tea spilled all over the table and floor.

“I should never have come,” Snape said and started backing out of the kitchen. “I’m sorry I disturbed your family at this hour.”

Lily, ignoring the broken cup and spilled tea, got up from her chair too. “Sev, it’s okay, really. You can stay and talk.” She tried to convince him.

“No, I can’t. I have to go.”

He was out the door and back in the heavy rain before she was able to call after him. He was sure though, that she was standing in the doorway, looking after him as he disappeared into the darkness.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later Snape went through his new morning routine when he woke up: he took a shower, shaved without once meeting his own eyes in the mirror, brushed his teeth and got dressed. As he walked into the hallway towards the kitchen, it was impossible not to look at the front door. It was right there as a constant reminder.

It had been twenty-six days now since Lucius walked out that door. Every morning Snape looked at it and made a mental note of how many days it had been. That was as long as he could allow himself to dwell on the matter. He could not think anymore about it. Going beyond that hurt too much, and he was not ready to deal with those emotions. So he pushed them away and buried them somewhere deep.

He gave the door a stubborn look before he walked into the kitchen. He had work to do: potions to cook and new recipes to perfect. He would keep his mind busy. He would be fine. Everything would be fine.

It was almost noon when a sharp rap at Snape’s kitchen window, where he was sitting bent over a cauldron, broke his concentration. He looked up and out the window and saw an owl carrying a letter in its beak. A little surprised at receiving mail, Snape opened the window and took the letter from the owl, which immediately flew off.

It was a fancy envelope: crisp white with black ornate edges. On the front, his name and address was written in dark green ink by an unfamiliar delicate hand. He turned the envelope around and the second he saw the wax seal, he dropped the letter as if it had burnt his fingers.

Snape stared at the envelope in horror. The wax seal was the Malfoy family crest. Why would Lucius send him mail? By the look of it, this was not an ordinary letter either. His hands quivered as he lifted the envelope again and slowly broke the seal to open it. Inside he found a card, which he lifted out with shaking fingers. It read:

 

 _Mr. Cygnus Black III and Mrs. Druella Black_  
_together with_  
_Mr. Abraxas Malfoy_  
_request the honour of your presence_  
_at the marriage of their children_

 _Narcissa_  
_ &_  
_Lucius_

 _on Saturday, the twenty-fifth of August_  
_nineteen seventy-nine_  
_at two o’clock in the afternoon_  
_at the Malfoy Manor_

 

Snape’s entire body went rigid. Unsure if he had just read what he had read, he read it again. As he finished reading it the second time, his pulse was throbbing so hard he could hear it, and nausea was starting to develop in his stomach. What was this? He was being invited to their wedding? Was this some sort of sick joke? Did Lucius somehow want to rub this mockery of a wedding into his face by having him there? Did he want to see Snape in pain while he celebrated his new union? Was that what got him off these days?

Snape lost it then. The feelings he had buried so deep inside him since Lucius left, suddenly rushed to the surface, spilling out all at once. With a violent move, he hit the cauldron on the table so hard it crashed into the opposite wall and fell to the floor with a loud clang, the insides of it splattering everywhere. He then grabbed the next thing that was closest to him, a large glass jar of potions ingredients, and threw that at the wall as well. He continued grabbing whatever he could find and threw them as hard as he possibly could, screaming as he did.

“It’s not fair! IT’S NOT FAIR!” He roared as his whole body shook from rage.

Eventually, the wave of anger subsided, and Snape found himself standing in the middle of his kitchen, panting from the outburst. He looked at the mess he had made  - the very literal version of the despair and anguish he had been feeling since Lucius left, but had repressed. He looked at it and he felt embarrassment and shame. In a desperate move to try to cover up what he had just done, he dropped to the floor and tried to clean up the mess with his hands. Pieces of glass from the jar he had thrown earlier was strewn around the floor and soon enough he cut both his hands.

Snape winced from the pain of the broken glass breaking his skin. He lifted his hands up and looked at his now bloody palms. As he sat there staring at them, almost fascinated by how many cuts those pieces of glass had been able to make in such a short amount of time, tears suddenly welled up in his eyes. They quietly ran down his face and dripped into his palms, where they mixed with the blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I wanted to make a point of how difficult it must be to be in/having been in a same sex relationship in a time and among people that don't accept or approve of it. I can only imagine how painful it must be to not be able to neither show love nor despair over lost love. 
> 
> * * *
> 
> In the next chapter, there's going to be a wedding! Yay! That's going to be FUN...


	9. Union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well if you can’t get what you love  
> You learn to love the things you’ve got  
> If you can’t be what you want  
> You learn to be the things you’re not
> 
> \- Passenger, “Things that stop you dreaming”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_August 25th, 1979._

Lucius studied himself in the mirror as he put on his cufflinks, which were adorned with the Malfoy family crest. He was wearing a white high collar shirt with a cream bow tie, a golden coloured double breasted vest with a subtle print, and pressed black trousers. His white-blond hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, secured with a black velvet ribbon.

It was his wedding day. He had not expected to find himself here quite yet, but even if he did not want to get married right now, what he wanted was not necessarily important. He had learned that early on. His wants and his duties were two different things, and as much as he had the opportunity to do what he wanted quite often, duty always came first when the two were set up against each other.

From the outside, it was the perfect union. A Malfoy and a Black. Two strong and wealthy pureblood families coming together. Both part of the sacred twenty-eight. His father had chosen well, and he was certain the Blacks were more than satisfied with the pairing as well.

Narcissa was beautiful. She was also intelligent and passionate and fiercely loyal. As proper and prim as she came across, she was a force to be reckoned with when push came to shove. She would do anything for those she cared about. Lucius knew that she would be an excellent wife, and he would be able to trust her.

There was only one problem: he did not love her.

Lucius was likely envied by many men on this day. Narcissa was popular and could have had any man she wanted. But she got him - a man who felt nothing for her. Albeit a man that she loved with her whole heart.

She had been in love with him since their Hogwarts years. He was well aware of that. Somewhere in the manor she was getting ready for their wedding right now. She was doing her hair, putting her dress on, pulling the veil over her face, smiling and laughing. She was excited, he was certain. She would have butterflies in her stomach. He knew she had looked forward to this day since it was first decided they would marry. How heartbroken would she be, he wondered, if he told her that he had no romantic feelings for her. Would she still want to marry him? Had it crossed her mind at all that their union was one of politics and power, and not love? He could not imagine that it had. She was too much of a romantic, longing for that knight in a shining armour. Longing for him. If she only knew...

He had tried to tell his father no. When his father brought the subject up for discussion, or rather, when he stated quite clearly that he had found a wife for him, that “no” had slipped out of his mouth before Lucius even realised he had said it. It was very unlike him to protest against his father like that. It was the first time since he was a child that he had done such a thing. You did not simply say no to Abraxas Malfoy. The consequences of doing so, could be severe.

“No?” His father had asked him with a dangerous hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. It was a condescending half-smile that was waiting to hear what he expected to be a cheap excuse, so he could shoot it down with a well-placed ridiculing comment after. Lucius knew that smile all too well. He used it himself all the time.

It had been pointless to protest, but there was something in him that needed to do it. A notion of some kind that nudged at him to at least try. Because if he did not he would regret it later. So he had, but his case was poor. He had no excuse for not going into the marriage that he could voice out loud, and that frustrated him, which in turn made him angry. He rarely got mad. Keeping his cool was part of his act, and his father would be so disappointed if he could not keep it together. But at that moment he did not care. He only wanted to get his opinion heard: that he refused to get married; that Narcissa was not right for him; that there was… someone else.

He did not say the last part. It was impossible to admit to such a thing.

In a chilling voice that was eerily calm, his father had answered him: “Are you certain, Lucius, that this is the path you wish to take? You can withdraw from this marriage. But remember this: if you do, you withdraw from everything.”

_Everything._

Lucius had known all too well what that meant. If he did not go through with the marriage, his father would disinherit him. The great shame that would bring their family name, was unparalleled, and that would be his responsibility.

He did not have a choice. He had to do it. He had to marry her. It was his duty to his family, and family always came first. It was a sacrifice he had to make.

Lucius grabbed his black tail coat jacket from the hanger, put it on and threw a final look at himself in the mirror. It was almost time. If there was ever a day for him to put on a show, this was the day. The amount of people he would disappoint if he did not, was staggering. But the one person he was hurting by going through with it, was the one person that mattered.

It was a beautiful sunny day. The Malfoy Manor gardens had been transformed into something taken straight out of a fairytale. It all looked very elegant, with the black and white colour theme weaving everything perfectly together. Nothing had been left to chance. Every single detail had been thought through: the lights, the flowers, the music. And, of course, the guests. There were more than two hundred of them sitting, eagerly awaiting the ceremony to begin.

Lucius was standing at the front, looking out at them all. The amount of people did not frighten him, but so many of them made it difficult to recognise faces. He tried to systematically scan each and every person’s face, but it was hard. He simply wanted to know if he was there - if he had made an appearance. Lucius could not blame Severus if he did not want to come, and if he knew him at all, he would not show. But he was still hoping that he would spot that jet black hair and those deep dark eyes of his somewhere in the crowd.

Soon enough it was time for the ceremony to begin. Lucius drew a deep breath and straightened his back as the music started playing. The ceremony official nodded at him and Lucius turned just as Narcissa appeared at the other end of the rose petal covered aisle. She was wearing a less elaborate dress than he thought she would. He had been sure she would go for something big and voluminous that would underline the princess impression most people had of her. But instead she had opted for a sleek and elegant figure-hugging dress, making her appear older. He watched as she walked towards him with confident strides, and when she was only a few feet away, he walked over to meet her. He could not see her face clearly through the veil, but he gave her a confident smile nonetheless before he took her hand and led her the last few steps to the ceremony official.

The music ended and the ceremony official began: "Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of these two faithful souls: Narcissa and Lucius.”

The ceremony official held a short introduction before he went on to tell the love story of Lucius and Narcissa. Lucius was not paying as close attention as perhaps he should, but he noticed that it was somewhat exaggerated, with quite a few details added that simply were not true. But they no doubt made for an excellent story.

“We come now to the words that take the bride and the groom across the threshold from being engaged to being married. A marriage is a full commitment. It is made in the deepest sense to the exclusion of others, and it is entered into with the desire and hope that it will last for life. Before you declare your vows to one another, I want to hear you confirm that it is indeed your intention to be married today.”

The ceremony official turned to Narcissa. “Narcissa, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Lucius in marriage? If so, answer ‘I do’.”

“I do,” answered Narcissa without hesitation.

Then he turned to Lucius. “Lucius, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Narcissa in marriage? If so, answer ‘I do’.”

 _I don’t_ , Lucius thought to himself, but out loud he said: “I do.”

“Having heard that it is indeed your intention to be married to each other, I now ask you to declare your marriage vows. Please face each other and hold hands.”

Lucius turned to Narcissa and took both of her hands in his. He listened to her as she repeated her vows after the ceremony official. Then it was his turn.

“Lucius, repeat after me,” the ceremony official said, and Lucius did as he was told.

He looked at Narcissa as he repeated the same vows as her. He was glad she was wearing her veil. It was easier when he did not have to look her directly in the eyes.

“I, Lucius, take you, Narcissa, to be my wife. I will share my life with yours, build our dreams together, support you through times of trouble, and rejoice with you in times of happiness. I promise to give you respect, love and loyalty through all the trials and triumphs of our lives together. This commitment is made in love, kept in faith, lived in hope, and made new every day of our lives.”

Rings were then exchanged between them. After they had put them on each other’s fingers, the ceremony official spoke: “Narcissa and Lucius, I offer these good wishes to you on this special day: May your love be a lifelong source of excitement, contentment, affection, respect, and devotion for one another.”

He then went on to declare: “Now by the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, it is my great honour and delight to declare you husband and wife. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.”

Lucius reached out for Narcissa’s veil and lifted it over her head. For the first time that day, he was actually face to face with her. As her brilliant blue eyes gazed up at him, it suddenly hit him how real it all was. They were looking at each other’s future, but in her eyes was an expectation he was not sure he could ever live up to. To still his own worrying thoughts, he then did what he did best: he pretended. He grabbed Narcissa around her waist, pulled her close to him and kissed her long enough for the guests to start both clapping and cheering.

After the ceremony was over, it was time for the festivities to begin. The Daily Prophet had wanted to cover their wedding because of their social status, and they had of course accepted. Lucius and Narcissa did an interview together, before they posed for photos. All the while Lucius played the very much in love, just married man who simply could not keep his hands off his new wife. He never once let go of Narcissa’s hand, pulled her into close embraces, shamelessly kissed her in the middle of the interview to make her giggle, and to top it off for the photos, he quite literally swept her off her feet and into his arms. The reporter and photographer both “ooo-ed” and “awww-ed” at him, and Lucius was confident he had made both them and tomorrow’s readers of the newspaper, fall in love with him.

When they finished their interview, they sat down to eat together with their guests. It was a lovely five course meal. At the end of it, it was time for speeches. Narcissa’s father held a surprisingly emotional speech, leaving no doubt about how much he and his wife cared about their youngest daughter. Lucius’s father was up next. His speech was like clockwork - precise, on point, and devout of any emotion at all, just as one would expect.

Finally, it was Lucius’ turn to hold his speech. It was not a speech he had spent a lot of time on. Words thankfully came easy to him and he delivered his speech like it was the only thing he had been doing his entire life.

As he neared the end of his speech, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a man getting up from a table at the far end of the garden. People usually did not move around during speeches. It was impolite and rather rude. Lucius turned his head to get a better look at the man. He was wearing all black, and his hair was jet black as well. Even that far away with his back turned against him, Lucius immediately recognised the man: Severus.

Had he been there the whole time? Had he witnessed the entire wedding? Had he believed it? Why was he leaving now? What was it he had seen or heard that made this very moment the final straw for him? Perhaps it just got too much. Perhaps he just could not take it anymore.

Lucius needed to say something. He needed to somehow let Severus know that all this was a show Lucius was simply playing a part in.

Someone cleared their throat and Lucius looked to his right to see his father giving him one of his looks, quietly and sternly asking him what he was doing. For a moment Lucius was confused. He did not realise he had stopped speaking mid-sentence as he looked at Severus. He turned to Narcissa, who looked at him questioningly, but who was still smiling.

Lucius gathered himself again. He realised that he could use this to his advantage. He gave Narcissa a quick smile and then looked out at the large gathering of guests, his eyes finally landing on Severus, who had now left the table and was walking away from it, soon to disappear out of sight.

“I apologise,” Lucius spoke, seemingly to the guests.

Severus stopped in his tracks. For a moment he stood still, but then he turned around. Lucius could finally see his face. It was full of resentment, no doubt towards him. But more than anything, he looked defeated. Lucius locked his own cold grey eyes with Severus’ deep dark ones.

“I... never expected to experience such a tragedy as falling in love,” Lucius began.

Up until then Lucius’ speech had been fairly light weight. What he had written was focused on tradition and romance, with a dash of humour sprinkled here and there to keep it interesting. The guests had clearly loved it, but it was far from a very personal speech. Now his entire tone of voice suddenly changed and turned more serious. Heavier. Everyone could feel it.

“If I could undo it, I would,” he continued. “Because the truth is, I didn’t want to. Not at all.”

Some of the guests murmured.

“But I did. And I will surely disappoint, if I haven’t already,” Lucius finished.

No one said anything. There was complete silence after he spoke his final words. Lucius stood unmoving, still looking past all the guests at Severus. At the other end of the garden, Severus just stared back at him. They stood like that for a short while, until Narcissa stood up, and with tears in her eyes pulled Lucius towards her and gave him a long kiss.

She thought he had been talking about her. Good. That hopefully meant that all the others thought the same. When she finally pulled away from him, she had to brush away tears from her cheeks. As she did, Lucius looked back at where Severus had been standing. He was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being the sole heir to the Malfoy name, isn’t easy. Such family duty, much responsibilty. I hope you liked getting a little peak into Lucius' head as well. I thought it fitting that the wedding chapter was from his point of view. I also wanted to paint Narcissa in a better light, because this whole thing isn’t her fault. She’s just a poor girl in love. Abraxas is the villain here, okay? :P
> 
> \-----
> 
> For anyone wondering: The sacred twenty-eight were the twenty-eight British families that were still "truly pureblood" by the 1930s (source: HP wiki). They may have decreased in number by the 1970s ;)
> 
> The wedding vows were inspired by/taken from two different secular wedding ceremony scripts I found on theknot.com.


	10. Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well I've lost it all, I'm just a silhouette  
> A lifeless face that you'll soon forget  
> My eyes are damp from the words you left  
> Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest
> 
> \- Daughter, “Youth”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_Winter 1980._

It was a cold February day, and thick snow was falling from the sky, quickly covering every inch of Diagon Alley. Snape had just come out of the Apothecary where he had topped up on some of his potions ingredients, and was on his way to Knockturn Alley to get some more alternative supplies. His view was obscured because of the snow, which meant he did not see Lucius and Narcissa until he almost bumped into them. And by then it was too late. He could not turn around, or run, or hide. He had to face them. But he did not know what to say, so he just stared at them, his mouth halfway open like a fool.

“Severus!” Lucius exclaimed with honest surprise.

Snape had not seen Lucius since the wedding, and he had hoped he would not have to ever again. That day was branded into his memory, always at the back of his mind, and he did not need to be reminded of it anymore than he already was. He did not need to bring back the pain of that day and of all the days after, by seeing Lucius and Narcissa together.

Snape swallowed. He had to say something. “Lucius,” he uttered, trying his best to avoid Lucius’ piercing eyes.

It was a long awkward silence, before Narcissa spoke up. “I don’t believe we have properly met, Severus,” she said and stretched her hand out for him to take. “Lucius has spoken of you of course, but it’s lovely to finally meet you.”

For a moment, Snape stood unmoving. Had Lucius actually spoken of him to her? Had he specifically talked about him, or just mentioned him in passing? Had it been more than once? What had he said? Questions he would never get answers to, rushed through his head.

He finally took her hand and was even able to produce a small smile. “The pleasure is mine,” he said as sincerely as he managed.

There was nothing wrong with Narcissa. She was perfectly nice. Kind and smart and pretty. But therein lay the problem. She was likeable, and she seemed to genuinely care for Lucius. If only she had been a horrible person.

A gust of wind came from behind Snape then, making Narcissa’s fur lined cape blow to the side to expose what was underneath it: a growing belly.

Snape stared at her stomach in disbelief. She was pregnant? He all of a sudden felt a sharp pain in his chest and his throat was starting to close up, making breathing difficult.

“Excuse me,” he suddenly said, dodging past them and down Knockturn Alley.

Halfway down the dark alley he was forced to stop. He would have sank straight to the ground if it was not for the brick wall behind him holding him up. He was heaving for his breath now, hands shaking, his heart hammering in his chest, the world spinning around him completely out of focus. What was happening? What was this feeling of completely losing control? He had experienced something similar before, but not to this degree. Not to the point where everything around him was disappearing. Fear and panic struck him as he desperately tried to gather himself, but could not. His body would not let him. He gasped for air, but his lungs did not seem to want to take it in.

Then he felt two strong hands grabbing him, and a voice somewhere off in the distance spoke: “Breathe, Severus. Slowly.”

He did not know who the voice belonged to, but something told him that listening to it was smart. He took a slow deep breath, then another, and then another. It took a while before he was able to regain his composure, but eventually the world started coming back to him and the face belonging to the voice came into focus in front of him.

It was Lucius.

The second Snape realised who was holding him, he pushed him forcefully away. “Get off me!”

Lucius immediately let go and backed away. He held his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to help you.”

There was legitimate concern in his voice, but Snape did not care. “I don’t need you to help me,” he sneered. He was feeling completely drained after what happened, and a little dizzy.

“Severus, please. Can we talk?” Lucius was almost begging him, which was highly unlike him.

“Certainly, Lucius. Talk as much as you want,” Snape said. He was being sarcastic, but Lucius took the opportunity anyway.

“I don’t want it to be like this between us. I don’t want there to be any hard feelings. I -” He stopped and sighed before he continued: “I still care for you. I want us to at least be friends.”

“You want us to be friends?” Snape asked him, his voice venomous.

“I do. I really do.”

Snape did not question the sincerity in Lucius’ words, but he did question his logic. He did not understand how Lucius could think to ask him such a thing, as if it was possible.

“Then tell me this, since you so wish to talk,” Snape began in a dark voice. “How does it feel when she touches you? Or kisses you? Or makes love to you? Do you ever think about me when you’re with her? Do you ever wish it was me lying next to you in bed at night?”

“Don’t go there, Severus,” Lucius warned him, his voice colder now.

“No?” Snape went on. Lucius was the one who had wanted to talk, and so he was going to listen as well. “I’m really sorry if this is so hard for you to hear, but I go there every day. Every damn day my mind takes me there, Lucius! Not because I want to, but because I can’t seem to get you out of my head!”

Lucius’ eyes flickered under Snape’s honest, angry gaze, before they eventually went to the ground. Silence fell between them. There was nothing more to say. Nothing more to do. They were not lovers anymore, and they could never be just friends. There was nothing left between them to hold onto. This was the moment they had to go their separate ways. Snape knew this, but actually admitting to it was a different story.

A shadow then appeared at the top of Knockturn Alley, and Snape turned to look at it. It was Narcissa, caressing her stomach with one of her hands, obviously looking for Lucius. Snape turned away from her, not wanting her to see him.

“Your wife is waiting for you,” Snape said, unable to conceal the bitterness in his voice. Then, before he left, he added: “Congratulations.”

 

* * *

 

_June 1980._

There was a notice in the Daily Prophet the day after Draco Lucius Malfoy was born. Apparently, his parents were very proud and could not be happier. Snape read the notice only once before he crumpled up the newspaper, threw it in the fireplace and set it on fire. He watched it as it burned.

 

* * *

 

_July 1980._

Harry James Potter was born at the end of the month. Snape had not known that Lily was pregnant, and when he learned that she had given birth to a son, he realised he had made a terrible mistake.

 

* * *

 

_Autumn 1980._

Snape tried, albeit foolishly, to beg the Dark Lord to leave Lily alone. To spare her life if it turned out that her son was the one spoken of in the prophecy.

“Kill her son. Kill her husband. Kill them both. But please, my Lord, please spare her,” he begged him.

The Dark Lord neither agreed nor disagreed to Snape’s asking favour, and Snape realised that he could never leave Lily’s safety in his hands.

There was only one person Snape could turn to. Only one person he could trust with Lily’s life: Albus Dumbledore. So he went to him, and he told him everything: how he had overheard Sybill Trelawney’s prophecy about the Dark Lord’s downfall, how he had gone to the Dark Lord and informed him about it, how he had realised all too late that the prophecy may involve Lily, and how he now desperately needed to make sure she was protected. Snape pleaded Dumbledore, literally on his knees, for him to keep her safe - her husband and son too, if need be.

“Very well,” Dumbledore told him. He would help Lily and her family. But in return he insisted that Snape would serve him as a double agent and a spy among the Death Eaters.

Snape agreed without question. He would do anything if it meant keeping Lily safe. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

 

* * *

 

_October 31st, 1981._

Lily!

Oh god no. No. Please no. Please!

Snape was running, panting, panicking.

He found her body on the floor, twisted and lifeless. Eyes still open in fear.

He was too late…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter ended up a little shorter than I originally meant it to be, but that’s only because this chapter and the next was supposed to be one. But then I decided that I needed to make more of the next chapter, because it will involve something that needs to be taken seriously and shouldn’t just be a page or two long.
> 
> Thank you all so much for all your comments and kudos so far btw. I'm so happy you like this fic, and your feedback is greatly appreciated <3


	11. Belladonna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't you hear my call?  
> Are you coming to get me now?  
> I've been waiting for  
> You to come rescue me  
> I need you to hold  
> All of the sadness I cannot live with inside of me
> 
> \- Sia, “I’m in here”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry about the awfully long wait for this chapter, but it's finally here!
> 
> Warnings: suicidal thoughts and attempted suicide.
> 
>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_November 1981._

Snape had thought that taking a job at Hogwarts would be smart. After Lucius, he needed something new and different. Something he could immerse himself in. A teaching position was almost ideal. He got to work with one of the things he loved dearly and had a very passionate relationship to: Potions. Granted, he did not have much patience for children, but he thankfully did not have any issues with stating his authority. And who knew, maybe a child or two would actually turn out to have some talent in the area. Although, so far, most of them had been a great disappointment.

Hogwarts had worked as a distraction at first. Being so far away from his prior life, pushed Lucius further to the back of his mind. And there was no chance of accidentally bumping into him here. But he never disappeared. Never completely. He was always there, lingering in the background. And then the dreams started… Snape would wake up panting and sweating in the middle of the night, heated from the touch of Lucius’ hands that felt so real. He could never fall back to sleep after that, so instead he would get up from the bed and find some cold water to splash on his face. Then he would look himself in the mirror and slap himself so hard, his cheek would flare up.

“Stop it!” he would tell himself, somehow trying to reach and threaten his own subconscious.

It never worked. A few nights later, he would dream about him again. It was a circle of never ending buried emotions that kept creeping out of the woodwork when he was at his most vulnerable.

Hogwarts was also not a distraction from Lily. Quite the opposite. Everything in the castle reminded him of her. Snape had lived as if in a daze the last couple of weeks. He had taught his classes, done all the things he was supposed to do, but everything was done out of duty and habit because he knew he had to. He was only going through the motions. After Lily... he could barely stand to even think the words. After Lily was murdered, everything went dark. Snape did not know what to do or how to react or how to live his life knowing that she was gone. The thought that he would never see her auburn hair or brilliant green eyes ever again, was unfathomable. With her gone, the world was obscured and senseless.

She was everything that was pure and good about this world. Caring and kind and never judging. She always gave people the benefit of the doubt and thought that everyone deserved a second chance. She was the complete opposite of Snape, who bore grudges so easily and barely gave anyone a first chance. She had always been there for him, from the first time they met as children and bonded over being “freaks”, to helping him through one of the toughest times in his life. He regretted leaving their home that night. He should have tried harder to talk to her. He should have been more open to her not understanding. He could have tried to explain it to her. But instead he shut down and cut her off and left.

And now she was gone. And the worst part was: it was his fault. He was the one that had handed the prophecy over to the Dark Lord. He was the one that had led the Dark Lord directly to her. He might as well have pulled his wand and killed her himself. Who could do something like that? What kind of despicable person was he? How could a vermin like him still be alive and someone as good as her, be dead? It was not fair. It was not right.

He deserved nothing more than to suffer after what he had done to her. The torment and grief he was feeling was nothing compared to what she must have felt when the Dark Lord came for her. He wondered if she had had any time to fight at all before she was struck down. Had James tried to protect her? Had he stepped in front of her and their son and sacrificed himself? Had she seen him die? Had her mind been able to grasp the fact that he was dead before she was killed too? Had they somehow had time to say goodbye? She must have run to her son in a desperate attempt to protect him, shielding him with her own body, not caring what happened to her as long as he lived. The amount of fear that she must have felt…

 

* * *

 

_December 1981._

Snape had taken to walk the same route around the castle several times a day. He seeked out spots in the school that reminded him of Lily: there was the seat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall where she had used to eat, there was the spot on the fourth floor that their paths had so often crossed between classes, there was the table in the corner of the library where she had used to study. He could see it so clearly, it was almost as if she was there. He could practically hear the sound of her laughter ringing through the corridors.

When he was alone in the evenings, Snape would be in his chambers and carefully go through all of his memories of Lily: what her tone of voice was like, how her smile was a little crooked, how she would playfully hit him on the arm when he said something silly. He would remember those things and truly feel the pain of her loss. Willingly, he let his own mind torture him, because the pain that it brought somehow made him able to feel her. It hurt, yes. It hurt so much. It hurt to the extent where he had to make sure he was sitting down, or his knees would buckle under him and he would collapse onto the floor, his legs simply not able to carry him. But in that hurt, he could feel her presence. If he closed his eyes and reached out his hand, it felt as if she was right there with him, just out of reach. So close, yet so far away.

He wondered: How much pain did he need to feel to be able to reach her? How far would he have to go to see her again?

 

* * *

 

_January 1982._

Snape was doing inventory of his potions’ storage room. There was a lot to go through, and even though he already had a thorough list of everything, he needed to go through it all at least every quarter to be certain everything was in its place and nothing was missing.

As he was standing there, carefully counting and noting things down, he felt a presence behind him. He turned around to see Dumbledore in the doorway, looking at him over his half-moon spectacles with his sparkling eyes and usual cheery smile. He was very charming for such an old man.

“Dumbledore,” Snape greeted him. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I’m just here for a little chat, if you have the time,” Dumbledore answered him. His tone of voice was gentle, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that let Snape know that this “little” chat was not as optional as he made it sound.

“Certainly,” Snape nodded.

“I wanted to ask how you are doing, Severus.”

“I’m fine.” He was not fine, but he was not about to let Dumbledore know that. His guilt and shame over Lily’s death was not Dumbledore’s problem.

Dumbledore’s cheery smile turned a little sad. “I’m afraid your constant roaming around the castle says otherwise, Severus. Some of the other teachers have expressed concern over your behaviour.”

“People have been expressing concern over my behaviour my entire life,” Snape said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore chuckled, but then he drilled those ancient eyes full of wisdom into Snape and said: “I know you are grieving Lily. Just make sure that the grief doesn't take over. As healthy and important as grieving is, it can just as easily tear you apart and consume you.”

Snape had to will himself to keep looking at Dumbledore and not let his gaze falter. He wanted to brush off what he said, but he realised that lying to Dumbledore would be useless. Somehow, he seemed to always know how people were feeling. So instead of denying everything, Snape nodded and answered: “I will keep that in mind.”

Dumbledore continued to look at Snape for a painfully long time, making him feel very uncomfortable. When he did not seem to show any sign of leaving, Snape pointed to his potions’ supplies: “I have to get on with the inventory.”

“Oh, yes of course. I do apologise, I was lost in thought,” Dumbledore said, suddenly snapping out of his trance. He winked at Snape before he turned around and walked away. He was a strange man.

Snape turned back to his potions’ ingredients, meticulously going through and counting the B’s: Balm, Baneberry, Bat spleen, Bat wing, Bdelium, Beetle eye, Belladonna, Betony, Bezoar… He stopped suddenly, went back a couple of steps and picked up a small bottle.

_Belladonna Extract._

Belladonna was a common ingredient in potions, regularly used by the students. At best, the plant had a medicinal usage. At worst, it was a deadly poison. It did however, have some other uses. Taking a certain amount, would give the user a hallucinogenic effect. Snape held the small bottle up to the light. It would not be particularly enjoyable, as Belladonna had some severely unpleasant side effects. But maybe… maybe the pain from taking it, could bring Lily back. If only for a moment, would it not be worth it?

He did not need to think about it very long. He quickly pocketed the bottle.

Later that night, Snape was in his chambers. He had made himself a cup of tea and sat himself down in his chair. On the table, next to his cup, was the small bottle of Belladonna extract. Snape opened it and with a pipette, he very carefully put eight drops of the extract into his tea. It occurred to him that he might have put in a couple of drops too many, that it might even be too much. Should he perhaps make a new cup? He thought about it, but then decided against it. If it was too much, then so be it.

Somewhat nervous, Snape leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his tea. It had quite the bitter aftertaste from the Belladonna, and he shuddered. But he sat quietly, drinking the tea in small sips until he had emptied the cup completely.

It did not take too long for the Belladonna to start working. Soon enough Snape’s heart rate picked up. It felt like he had been running a great distance. His heart was hammering in his chest. Then his vision blurred and the room started swimming. He was glad he was sitting down or he was certain he would have fallen over. And then the convulsions set in. His muscles tensed before all of them seemed to spasm at the same time. He jerked and shook and foamed at the mouth.

He did not know how long the convulsions went on because he blacked out at one point. When he woke up again, his dark dungeon chambers were bathed in a unnatural bright light. He tried shielding his eyes with his hands, as the light was so strong it was painful. Eventually though, the light dimmed.

As the bright light faded, Snape realised a person was standing before him. He narrowed his eyes, and that is when he saw her. In front of him stood Lily, as beautiful as ever. He had not been certain what he expected to see if she showed, but he had perhaps thought that it would be something like a ghost or a spirit. But she looked real. Really real. Corporeal.  
  
"Lily!" he exclaimed, struggling to get to his feet to get to her, but failing and falling to the floor instead. His body was not responding the way it usually did. So he crawled - hauled his body towards Lily, who stood unmoving, looking at him with her large green eyes.  
  
"What have you done, Sev?" she asked him. It was not an accusatory question. Rather, it was one filled with genuine wonder and worry.  
  
Snape stared up at her. He could not believe it. Could not believe that she was actually here. "I... I wanted to see you." He almost choked on his own words. "I miss you so much."  
  
"Oh, Sev," she sighed and squatted down in front of him. "My poor sweet, Sev."  
  
Snape tried to move even closer to her. He wanted to touch her, to feel her warm skin against his. But Lily backed away then, making sure she was just out of reach from him. He did not have the strength to pursue her, so he stayed where he was.  
  
Instead he said: "Take me with you. I want to go. Please, Lily. Please..."  
  
It was a desperate, truthful plea from the deepest part of his heart. There was nothing more he wanted right now than to leave everything behind and go with her.  
  
Lily gave him a sad smile and shook her head gently. "This isn't your time, Sev."  
  
An inhuman howl escaped Snape’s mouth as he broke down in front of her. "I can't do it anymore, Lily. Lucius left me, and you are gone. It's... it's too much. I can't handle all this pain. It hurts too much."  
  
He was crying violently now. Tears pooling from his eyes and his chest heaving from not being able to control his breath.

Lily stepped forward then, reached her hand out and finally touched him. She stroked away his tears with the back of her hand. When Snape felt her skin against his, he shivered. She was not warm, like he had wanted her to be. She was ice cold. Chilling.

“No, Sev. You are still needed here. I need you to protect my son. Please.”

Lily began to slip away then. Slowly, she disappeared into the shadows, which once again took ownership of the room.

“N-no! Lily, no!” Snape yelled as loud as he could, but most of what came out of his mouth were coughs before he started vomiting.

Before the shadows completely engulfed her, she repeated: “Protect my son.”

Then Lily was gone and Snape collapsed onto the floor again. “Plea… Please don’t g-go…” he weakly managed to beg before everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

Snape woke up in the hospital wing two days later. He looked around him, at all the other empty beds with crisp white linen. Cold winter light was coming through the large windows, adding to the hospital wing’s sterile look. It was quiet, and he thanked some unknown deity for it because his head was pounding.

This had not gone the way he had planned it. He had taken too much Belladonna, but also not enough. Too much to be able to take care of himself, but not enough to never wake up again. He was not sure which of those were worse.

He wondered who had found him and taken him to the hospital wing. Did everyone know? All the professors must be talking about him. Maybe even the students. He closed his eyes for a moment. He could not stand it if people were talking about him. Feeling sorry for him. Pitying him.

He threw the bed linen to the side and swung his legs over the side of the bed, ready to get up, get dressed and get out of there. He felt a little lightheaded, but he ignored it. He had just gotten to his feet when the door to the hospital wing swung open, and Dumbledore walked in accompanied by Madam Pomfrey.

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes widened when she saw Snape out of bed. “And what exactly do you think you’re doing, young man? Get back in bed - right now!” She rushed over to him, grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back into bed before he could even think about protesting.

Snape looked at her with mild horror as she tucked him back into bed. Madam Pomfrey was an incredible nurse, and she was as strict as she was kind. There was no nonsense with Madam Pomfrey, which was why Snape liked her. It was also why she had always scared him a little.

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” said Dumbledore, his eyes sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles. “If you wouldn't mind leaving us alone for a little while? I don’t believe Severus will attempt another escape anytime soon. And if he does, I have my own ways.” He tapped his nose conspiratorially and Madam Pomfrey nodded before she left the room and closed the door behind her.

The room fell silent again when she left, but this time, instead of a peaceful quiet, it was an uncomfortable and pressing silence. Snape knew that Dumbledore was waiting for him to speak, but he did not know what to say. There was nothing to say. How could he possibly explain this away? He shot a glance at Dumbledore, who had sat himself down on a chair next to Snape’s bed. He was smiling to himself - that gentle and secretive smile that made him look wise even beyond _his_ years - while twiddling his thumbs. Forever waiting for Snape to speak. Forever patient.

Eventually Snape could not take the pressing silence anymore. "It was an accident,” he said, his voice unsteady and a little hoarse.

Dumbledore looked up and met Snape’s gaze, forcing him to lock eyes with him. "An accident," Dumbledore repeated. He nodded then, very slowly, as if actually considering what Snape had said. As if he did not already know that it was a lie. He went on: "Yes, I'm certain that the Potions' master of Hogwarts simply happened to drop a close to deadly amount of Belladonna in his tea."

Snape swallowed. He tore his eyes away from the old man. He could not bear to look at him any longer. He was too ashamed and embarrassed by what he had done.

Silence fell between them again, and when it was broken next, it was by Dumbledore.

“No one but me knows what really happened, Severus. Professor McGonagall helped me get you to the hospital wing, but she doesn’t know that you took anything. I’m sure she has her suspicions, but she is not one to tattle. Madam Pomfrey had to detox you and therefore obviously knows what you took, but she is an honourable nurse, and she is bound by her profession’s vow of silence, so she won’t say anything either.”

Snape thought about Dumbledore’s words for a second. “No one else knows?”

“No one,” Dumbledore confirmed.

Snape supposed that three people knowing was better than the entire school, but he wished that no one knew at all. He wished that not a single person would ever learn of what he had done. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were indeed honourable and professional women, but even if they never told anyone else, they still knew. The next time they saw him, they would think about it. They would have an opinion on it. Their view on him would have changed, whether they wanted to or not. Maybe they would even talk about him together. No, he could not possibly handle that.

Snape’s voice was weak when he next spoke, his eyes cast down in shame. “I can’t, Dumbledore. I can’t face them.”

Dumbledore reached out his hand then and put it on top of Snape’s. Snape’s reflexes told him to pull away, to not accept this act of kindness because it would surely come back to bite him at a later point in life, but he managed not to do so.

“You can face them, Severus. You must,” Dumbledore insisted. “And you have to promise to never do anything like this again.”

Snape did not answer him. He was not sure if he could keep a promise like that. How could he stand living a life like this for decades longer?

Dumbledore continued: “If you cared for Lily Evans, if you truly cared for her, then your way forward is clear. You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."

At those words, something stirred inside Snape. He remembered something - something from the night he had taken the Belladonna. Lily had told him to protect her son. For now, the child was hidden, but not out of danger. As long as the Dark Lord was not confirmed dead, he was not safe from harm.

Snape took a deep breath. “Very well,” he finally answered, his voice a little more steady now. “But never - never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear... especially Potter's son..."

With a silent nod, Dumbledore swore. He got up from the chair he was sitting in, and Snape watched as he walked out of the room.

He would live on, if not for himself, then for what Lily needed of him. He would protect her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It breaks my heart that suicidal Snape is actually canon. I have only wished that we knew more about it and how that period in time was like for him, because it's something that's very important to me. I am a sufferer of depression, self harm and suicidal thoughts myself, and this is why I wanted to incorporate this in the fic. So many people suffer from this, and I want it to be taken seriously. I want it to be talked about. I want you who struggle with this to know that you are not alone, and that you can get through it <3
> 
> \---
> 
> I’m not sure when the next chapter will be up. I sadly don’t have the time to write as much as I did this summer. But it will come, and hopefully it won’t take as long as this chapter did.


	12. Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been treated so wrong  
> I've been treated so long  
> As if I'm becoming untouchable  
> I'm the slow dying flower  
> In the frost killing hour  
> Sweet turning sour and untouchable
> 
> \- Natalie Merchant, “My skin”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry angsty Christmas and heartbreaking holidays, everyone!  
> My present from me to you is a new chapter :)
> 
>  [Go here to find the playlist for the fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_August 1991._

The next nine years passed as a strict line of routines for Snape. Those routines were the only way he felt he could keep himself together and be somewhat in control of his own life. It was a life continually not worth living, but he had made a promise to Lily and to Dumbledore, and he intended to keep it.

He had not seen Lucius in years, and he preferred it that way. On occasion, he would read about his former lover in the newspaper. He would then proceed to pretend it did not faze him, but feel a tug in his chest at the mention of his name.

He grew bitter, slowly turning sour and even more watchful and resentful of his surroundings and the people in his life. There were no one that could bring him joy, least of all anything remotely resembling love.

It was exactly one month until the start of the school year, and Snape was in his dungeon classroom going through the new first-year students lists, as had become a habit of his. He preferred knowing beforehand who exactly he would be teaching. His index finger trailed down the list of names until it came to an abrupt halt. It lingered over the name _Malfoy, Draco Lucius_. Holding his breath, Snape quickly ran his finger further down the list and found what he was looking for: _Potter, Harry James_.

Letting out a huff of air, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. He had forgotten what year it was. He had forgotten that it had been eleven years since Lily’s and Lucius’ sons were born. Those children had thankfully barely been on his mind. Their start at Hogwarts had always been so far away. But now it was here. In a month he would have to deal with teaching them for the next seven years. Unfortunately, that also meant that he would have to deal with Lucius again. However minor the interaction between a professor and a parent was, it was still existing. Feeling his chest tighten, he took a deep breath. Somehow he would have to find a way to deal with it.

 

* * *

 

_September 1991._

Everyone at Hogwarts were gathered in the Great Hall. The ceiling was dark and dotted with shining stars. Below it, lit candles were floating mid-air over the four long house tables. The students, excitedly awaiting the start of the Sorting Ceremony, were seated at their respective tables, which were laid with glittering plates and goblets. The faculty were seated at the great table at the front of the Hall, where Snape had a grand view of the room and every single person in it.

The double doors at the back of the Hall opened, and in stepped Professor McGonagall, with a long line of first-years trailing behind her like a tail. Some were nervous, some excited, but all of them in awe at what they saw as they entered the Hall. Magic born or not, Snape could see all their innocent eyes grow large as they took in the sights around them, just the way his had when he had seen the Great Hall for the first time.

The new students followed Professor McGonagall up to the teachers’ table, where they turned their backs to them to face the other students. Professor McGonagall then placed a four-legged stool in front of them and put the Sorting Hat on top of it. There was complete silence for a few seconds, before the Sorting Hat started singing. When it finished, the entire Hall broke into applause. Snape politely applauded it as well, but he was not truly paying attention to it.

Professor McGonagall then stepped forward with a long roll of parchment in her hands. She explained: “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.” Then she read the first name on the list: “Abbott, Hannah!”

A blonde girl with pigtails made her way to the stool, but Snape, who usually paid close attention to the Sorting Ceremony, barely noticed her or what house she was sorted into. His eyes were darting back and forth between the backs of two eleven year old boys standing not too far away from each other. One of them with messy brown hair and a nervous appearance. The other pale blond, standing straight with a confidence few had in this situation. Snape had watched them both closely as they had walked up the middle of the Grand Hall.

Looking at Harry was like looking at James. He was so similar to his father, that for a second, Snape genuinely thought he had stepped back in time. There was no doubt he was a Potter. Everything about him screamed James. Except for one thing: his eyes. He had Lily’s bright green eyes. Even far away, he could see them clearly, and it hurt, because it was just like looking at Lily.

The apple did not fall far from the tree when it came to Draco either. It was uncanny how similar to his father his posture and outwards attitude was. No doubt Lucius had taught him a thing or two. But there was a lot of Narcissa in him as well. While his pale marblelike complexion was all Lucius, his pointed regal-looking face came from Narcissa. All in all he was the perfect combination of the two. Snape was certain the Blacks and the Malfoys were patting themselves on their backs and congratulating each other for having bred such an excellent new pureblood specimen.

Snape was deep in thought when Professor McGonagall ripped him back to the present situation as she called the next name on her list: “Malfoy, Draco!”

Draco confidently strutted up to the stool and sat down. He picked up the hat to put it on, but it barely touched his head before it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" Cheers broke out from the Slytherin table as Draco proudly sat down with his new house. It was hardly a surprise that a Malfoy had been sorted into Slytherin, but Snape could not help but feel mild nausea over the fact that Lucius’ son was in his house, and by that his responsibility.

Student after student sat down on the stool to be sorted while Snape somehow tried to come to terms with having to be so close to Draco. Then, Professor McGonagall called: “Potter, Harry!”

The room stirred then. People whispered and pointed in the boy’s direction. “Harry Potter?” people murmured. “The Harry Potter?”

Snape kept his eyes on him as he, seemingly uncomfortable with the attention, made his way to the stool. He dropped the hat over his head, and then there was silence. Everyone in the Hall simply stared in expectation at the one they now knew was the boy who lived. No doubt many of them hoped that he would end up in their house.

The hat spent an awfully long time on Harry's head. Snape got anxious that it might sort him into Slytherin too. He did not know what he would do if both boys were sorted into his house. It was a scenario he was not willing to deal with. It was bad enough that he had to teach them both. Finally, the hat shouted from atop Harry’s head: “GRYFFINDOR!” Snape almost let out a sigh of relief. Of course. Of course he became a Gryffindor. Just like his unbearable father. Just like his wonderful mother.

 

* * *

 

The Friday after the Sorting Ceremony, it was time for Snape’s first Potions lesson with the first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Still in his chambers, he cursed some unknown higher power for the fact that those two particular houses had to be in the same class. Draco and Harry together. He had been lying awake all night, trying to figure out some kind of way to deal with them, when in reality what he wanted was to not deal with them at all. However, that was not a possibility, and as much as he would like to, he could not expel them for no reason. He therefore decided on the only other tactic he knew of when avoiding the issue was not an option: being threatening.

At exactly nine o’clock, Snape slammed open the door to his dungeon classroom, and marched into it, robes billowing behind him. He stopped at his desk, picked up the name register and started calling the students’ names without looking at them, checking them off as he went. He raced past Draco’s name, and did not stop until he came to Harry. I should ignore him, he thought to himself. But then he looked up and met Lily’s eyes, and all of a sudden he was brought back to the night she died, when he had held her in his arms, and he was overcome by such a sudden grief that he could only block it out by lashing out.

“Ah, yes,” he said venomously. “Harry Potter. Our new - _celebrity_.”

Harry looked back at him, confused. Behind him, Draco and two other Slytherin boys sniggered behind their hands. Snape turned to them, ready to say something. He wanted to tell Draco to shut his mouth, but he stopped himself. He could not. Snape knew that Lucius would be the kind of father that wanted his son to tell him everything that went on at school - especially if anyone was treating him poorly. He did not want to give Lucius any excuse to contact the school or him. So he ignored Draco, and went on with his class.

As the students stared at him in mild terror, Snape started on the speech he usually gave the new first-years: “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.” He crossed the room from his desk and over to the shelves where so many of his glass jars of preserved animals were sitting. With his back to the class, he continued: “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.” He turned to face the students again. “I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.” He looked at Draco then, and he was not sure why, because out of everyone in the room, he was probably the one who needed his next words the least. “I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -” Draco smirked arrogantly back at him. He really was just like his father. Annoyed, Snape turned away from him again, then added: “- if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

His patience was wearing thin already, and the class had barely started. How was he going to get through this day? Not only that, how was he going to get through the next seven years?

“Potter!” he heard himself say then. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

There was no way Harry knew the answer to that question. No first-year ever knew the answer to that question. As expected, he answered: “I don’t know, sir.”

Snape huffed. “Fame clearly isn’t everything.”

He continued grilling Harry, watching him steadily shrink at every question he was not able to answer, at the same time feeling his own self-loathing grow. He did not stop until Neville Longbottom at a later point in the class, somehow managed to melt his cauldron, drenching himself in the potion he was making, having to be sent to the hospital wing.

When the class finally ended and the last student had left the dungeon, Snape leaned back on his desk, feeling exhausted, but more than anything ashamed at his own behaviour. He wished he could have handled the situation better. He ran his hand through his hair as he let out a shaky sigh and whispered to the emptiness in the room: “I’m sorry, Lily.”

Just as he let his head fall down to his chest in defeat, Snape heard someone clear their throat over by the door. He almost jumped out of his own skin when he saw Draco standing there looking at him. Panicking slightly, he stood up straight, scared that Draco might have heard what he said.

If Draco had heard him, he did not show any sign of it. Carefully, he stepped closer to Snape, clutching the strap of his school bag. He seemed a little less cocky on his own, most likely intimidated by Snape. Despite being the head of his house, Snape did still have a certain reputation among the students.

“Professor Snape, sir,” he said.

Still annoyed and so very tired, knowing full well he had another double class coming up after lunch, Snape only managed to let out an irritated “What?”

“My father wanted me to send you his regards, sir,” the blond boy spoke. He said it so matter-of-factly, as if he was delivering any random message. As if he did not know the weight of the words he had just spoken. Which, of course, he could not possibly know. He said it as if Snape was just any old friend of Lucius’. As if their past together, in those few words, would not come tumbling down on him like a landslide.

Snape stared at Draco, shocked at first, but then turning angry. How dared he? How dared Lucius, after all these years, use his own son as a pawn in some disgusting mindgame to get his attention?

It took everything he had not to scream out loud. Instead, he pursed his lips together and clenched his fists by his side, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. Finally, he spoke, unable to fully conceal the bitterness in his voice, hoping that Draco’s young age would not pick up on it: “Thank you, Draco.”

Draco nodded, seeming pleased at himself for having done his father’s bidding. Snape turned his back on him then, making it clear that their conversation was over.

He thought Draco would leave, but instead he said: “Would you like me to send your regards in return?”

Snape was glad he was standing with his back turned, because it was no longer possible for him to hide his anger. No, he did not want to send his regards in return. He did not want Lucius’ regards in the first place. But he could not tell Draco that. There was really only one answer to the boy’s question.

Through gritted teeth, Snape spoke: “Of course.” Then, before Draco could possibly say anything more, he added: “Now leave, I have work to do.”

Snape heard Draco’s footsteps leave the classroom, and then the heavy dungeon door close behind him. When he was certain he was alone again, Snape slammed his hands down on his desk in rage and frustration. Why was Lucius doing this? What did he want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write Snape's reaction to seeing and interacting with Draco and Harry for the first time. Do let me know what you think! I greatly appreciate your feedback.
> 
> In the next chapter, Lucius might return! So you can look forward to that. Or not. You choose.


	13. Restraint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adonis baby  
> Jumping frames in strobing light  
> Fingertips drip down my spine  
> Cruel desire, danger in our consequence  
> You look my way and I lose my-
> 
> \- Transviolet, “Bloodstream”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally made a playlist for the fic, where you can listen to all the songs I use as summaries for the chapters.  [You can find it here.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtlB2f6pmAcafnadmDLs24675_Uu70y0y)  
>   
> 

_ October 1991. _

Early one Sunday evening, Snape was on his way from the library back to his chambers with a book tucked under his arm. As he rounded the corner to the marble staircase, he noticed at flock of twelve people standing in the entrance hall, buzzing, together with Dumbledore. He recognised them as the governors of Hogwarts. There was nothing unusual about them being there. They regularly held meetings at the school, and Snape sometimes ran into them. What was unusual, was that amongst them was a new wizard. Someone tall and regal, leaning on a cane - a man he had avoided for a long time, but whom he simply could not seem to get away from no matter how hard he tried. Even with his back turned against Snape and without his trademark blond hair tied back in a low ponytail, Snape would have recognised him. His posture, his confidence, the aura that surrounded him - Snape could have smelled him out in a crowd.

The second Snape saw him, his body went rigid. As much as he knew that he was bound to see Lucius again now that his son was at school, he did not want him here. Hogwarts was off limits. This was the one place where he was free from him. The one place where he did not have to worry about running into him. The one place where he could forget and ignore and pretend that the time they had together, never happened. Why was he here anyway? Why was he with the governors? Snape narrowed his eyes as he watched Dumbledore shake Lucius’ hand. Surely, he had not become a governor? Why would he? Just as those questions crossed his mind, Snape remembered who he was dealing with. Of course Lucius had become a governor. It made all kinds of sense. Being on the board put him in a power position with Hogwarts, and there was nothing Lucius was better at or liked more than having control over other people.

Snape backed away, so he was hidden behind a pillar, but still able to look at the governors below him. He watched as Lucius gestured with his free hand. Long, slender fingers underlining some point. Snape could vaguely hear his voice from where he was standing, but not what he was saying. It had been so long since he had seen him, and everything had changed. Yet, looking at him now, his heart racing is his chest told Snape that some things had not changed at all.

As he stood there, peeping at Lucius like the coward he was, Lucius turned and looked up the marble staircase, almost directly at the spot Snape was standing. Snape flattened himself against the pillar and stood unmoving, heart jumping up into his throat. He had not seen him, had he? He could not stand there any longer. He had to get away. Thankfully, Hogwarts was a large castle with many corridors and places to hide. Holding back a panicked run, Snape briskly walked back in the direction of the library, finding another smaller staircase leading down into the dungeons and his private chambers. 

He thought he was free and out of sight of anyone when he set foot on the dungeon level floor, when suddenly two first year Hufflepuff students appeared in front of him. He was not sure who was more surprised at running into each other - him or them, but they had picked a terrible time to be in the wrong place.

Walking towards them like a looming shadow, mild panic clawing at his chest, he sneered at them: “What are you doing, sneaking around down here? Hufflepuffs have no business in the dungeons outside of class!”

The Hufflepuffs looked terrified, but one of them managed to whimper: “We’re sorry, Professor Snape. We were trying to get back to our common room, but we took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up here.”

“What a useless excuse,” he spat at them. “Five points from Hufflepuff for share stupidity. Now get - out - of - my - sight!” 

The students scampered off like frightened critters, one of them with tears in their eyes. He saw them going the wrong way again, but he was not going to chase after them.

Instead he turned and rushed towards his private chambers. Inside, he sank to the floor with his back against the door. His breathing shallow, Snape ripped open his collar, feeling as if it was choking him.

He sat on the floor like that for a while, trying to get his own breath under control, cold sweat trickling down his forehead. When the air finally started flowing freely to his lungs again, he got up, but he was feeling a little dazed so he leaned heavily against the wall with both hands.

He could not do this anymore. He could not keep running. He had to get a grip on himself and face Lucius at some point. He shook his head. “I can’t let him affect me like this,” he spoke to the empty room. “Not anymore.”

Then anger came over him, and he balled his hands into fists. Snape was sick of Lucius, but mostly he was sick of himself. From now on, he was going to be in control.

 

* * *

 

_ January 1992. _

It was late afternoon, and Snape was hunched over the desk in his classroom, working overtime, when the door to the dungeon opened suddenly. With a scowl, he looked up, ready to scold whoever dared enter his classroom without knocking first. But then he saw who it was, and he almost dropped his jaw. It had been a couple of months since he last saw Lucius at Hogwarts, and Snape knew that he would see him here again. He was just hoping that it might take a little bit longer; that he might have some more time to mentally prepare for an encounter.

Lucius entered the room as if he owned it - like he always did. He was dressed to the nines, with his hair loose, falling freely down his back. In his right hand, he held his serpent cane. Snape could not deny it: he looked good. He looked really good. His appearance alone almost threw Snape off his planned game immediately, but he took a deep breath and collected himself.  _ Stay in control _ , he told himself.

“Lucius,” stated Snape, trying his best to sound calm and collected, while all kinds of emotions were raging inside him.

“Good afternoon, Severus,” Lucius greeted him back with a mocking smile as he slowly walked towards him, twirling his cane as he went.

Instantly annoyed at the arrogant way Lucius was acting, Snape said: "That's Professor Snape to you.” Then he added: “What do you want?”   
  
"Tsk-tsk! Such hostility. Pardon me,  _ Professor _ ." He put extra weight on the title, as if mocking him. “I am simply here to enquire about my son.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I don’t believe you,” Snape said. “Also, you can drop the act with me.”

“Why, I don’t know what you mean,” said Lucius, feigning innocence.

Snape pursed his lips. The need to shake the arrogance out of Lucius was very strong, but he resisted. It was almost better that he was displaying his public persona. It made it easier.  “Fine, if this is how you want to do it.” If Lucius wanted to play pretend, he would go along. He straightened up in his chair and fixed his eyes on the tall blond man before him. “Your son is so far doing well, Mister Malfoy. Not excellent, but well. If he focused more on studying instead of winning Slytherin’s title of most popular, he could be great. My personal opinion is that he could do with a little less arrogance.”

Lucius arched an eyebrow at him, as if daring him to speak ill of his son. Snape did not care. He was telling the truth.

“Much like his father,” Snape spat venomously. The words came out before he had time to think. As much as he wanted to stay calm, there was something inside him that wanted to be mean to Lucius, to bring him embarrassment and shame, perhaps even pain, and he was not quite able to stop it.

Surprisingly enough, and to Snape’s great annoyance, Lucius let out a laugh. He obviously was not provoked at all by Snape’s words. Instead he started walking around his classroom, looking at his things. He stopped and picked up a jar with a preserved niffler, turned it around in his hands and studied it.

“Please don’t touch anything,” Snape said as calmly as he could manage through gritted teeth. He detested it when people touched his things. They were not put on the shelf to be fondled. They were there to be admired from afar.

Lucius calmly put the niffler back on the shelf, and instead proceeded to walk over to a way larger jar containing a five-legged unicorn fetus. He tapped on the glass - hard.

Snape almost rocketed out of his chair and over to Lucius. “I said, don’t touch anything.”

It angered Snape to no end, that Lucius was able to get under his skin the way he did. He knew exactly what buttons to press. Like right now, when he was giving him that smug smirk. He had to remember to stay in control of himself, to not let Lucius knock him off his perch. As difficult as it was, he had to keep his cool.

Just as Snape felt himself calm down again, Lucius raised his hand, let it brush off an invisible speck of dust on Snape’s robes, and then let it linger on Snape’s upper arm.

Licking his lips, he said: “Not even you?”

Shocked first at his seductive words, Snape only blinked. Heat rushed through him, as if his body suddenly woke up, remembering Lucius’ touch, and now realising how starved it was to feel that connection again. But soon after lust and longing, resentment and pain followed suit. Because underneath that hunger to feel Lucius’ touch again, lay years of pain from being deprived of it after he took it away.

“Stop this!” Snape smacked away Lucius’ hand with his own, his eyes turning dark with anger. “You don’t get to waltz into my classroom and act like you own it. You may own everything else, but this place, this place is mine!”

Lucius was silent as Snape scolded him, but when he finished, he snickered. “Oh? Is that so?” he said, amused. “And what exactly do you intend to do about it?”

The promise Snape had given himself to keep cool and in control, was quickly slipping. Lucius had pushed him over some ledge and Snape struggled to see anything but red. He grabbed Lucius’ wrist hard. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

They were only an inch or two away from each other now, Snape so mad he could have spat in Lucius’ face. Lucius however, still seemed to find the situation entertaining.

“That does hurt a little bit,  _ Professor _ .” Then he leaned in even closer to Snape and whispered: “But I like it.”

Snape glared at Lucius. “You’re sick.” He tightened his grip on Lucius’ wrist, and Lucius hissed at the pain. “This isn’t you.”

“But it is,” Lucius answered him defiantly.

Snape snarled at him. “Stop it! Stop these idiotic games!” He twisted Lucius’ hand so he was forced to turn around with his back against Snape. Lucius let out a pained sound, but he was not resisting in any way. “Is this how you want it to be? Tell me! Is this what you want?”

When they were younger, Lucius had always been the strongest of the two. But Snape had grown up and gained some muscle, and he had no problem keeping Lucius in this lock. Snape expected Lucius to finally give in, to realise that Snape had called his bluff even before he entered the room. Enough was enough. It was time for him to admit defeat.

To Snape’s great surprise, however, Lucius answered him with a wicked whisper: “Yes.”

To say that Snape lost control at that point, would be an understatement. He was not prepared for Lucius’ answer. A combination of anger and lust completely overwhelmed him, and he could not contain himself. If this was what Lucius wanted, Snape would give it to him.

Still holding his wrist in a tight grip behind his back, Snape steered Lucius toward his desk, basically slamming him over it when they reached it. Lucius grunted at the rough treatment, but did not protest. Quite the opposite. He looked over his shoulder at Snape and grinned devilishly at him.

Snape freed Lucius’ hand of his iron grip, stepping so close to him his already rock hard erection rubbed up against his ass. He reached in front, impatiently unbuttoning Lucius’ trousers and ripping them off him down to his knees. He could hear a seam rip somewhere, and the thought of ruining Lucius’ perfect clothing, somehow turned him on even more. He used his foot to kick at Lucius’ legs, forcing him to part them, then whipped his jacket over his back, displaying his pale ass.

A low growl came from Snape as he looked at Lucius, sprawled over his desk with his hands holding onto the edge, his ass up in the air, tantalizing him.

Snape threw his robes off himself, quickly unbuttoning his own trousers, whipping his hard cock out. It was screaming to impale Lucius’ ass, to fill him up. He could be kind and take it slow - warm Lucius up and make sure that this would be a pleasant experience for the both of them. And there was a time when he would have done that. But not here. Not now. Not anymore. He spat into his own hand, creating a makeshift lube, dragging it along the length of his cock before he lined himself up behind Lucius.

He grabbed a hold of Lucius’ ass cheeks with both hands, parting them. Then he entered him. Without proper lubrication or any form of warm up, it was difficult. He was very tight, but it felt damn good too. He pressed on as much as he could, feeling Lucius writhe underneath him.

“Fuck!” Lucius suddenly let out.

“Shut up,” Snape told him, grabbed his hips and pushed even further into him as some sort of punishment. He was almost all the way in, pressing as hard as he could, roughly opening Lucius up to him.

When Snape was finally all the way in, he could feel Lucius relax. Then Snape started thrusting him, slowly at first for his own enjoyment, slipping in and out of him while making small grunts of pleasure. He was savouring how it felt to have Lucius wrapped around his cock - to have this control over him, being the one making the decisions. Then he quickened the pace, going as deep as he could each time, ramming into Lucius with all his might.

Snape was snarlig, all instincts and animallike in his behaviour, only interested in the here and now and his own pleasure. Blocking out the rest of the world.

“Harder!” it came from Lucius, slamming one of his fists into Snape’s desk, while the other had a tight grip on the edge of it.

Snape was already fucking him so hard Lucius was hitting the desk every time he thrusted into him. He kept a tight grip on Lucius’ hip with his one hand, digging his fingers into the flesh there. The other traveled up Lucius’ back and found his hair. Snape twisted it once, twice around his hand, and then he pulled. Lucius’ head jerked back and he let out a cry.

“Yes!” he almost screamed.

“Shut. Up!” Snape commanded him, thrusting hard into him while simultaneously pulling his hair, again and again.

He would not last much longer. Panting, he kept up his tempo, until the familiar feeling of his orgasm hit him. He pulled out just in time, spilling his cum all over Lucius’ lower back instead of coming inside him. He watched as it began trickling down his ass cheeks. Lucius had not come, but frankly he did not care. He picked up his robes, walked around the desk and found some tissues in his drawers that he wiped himself off with. He pushed the tissues towards Lucius, and he watched as he cleaned himself off too. He took a certain delight in seeing that some of his cum had stained his jacket.

As Lucius put his trousers back on, smoothed out his hair and tried to look presentable again, Snape was coming back to himself. Slowly and way too late, he understood what had just happened. He came to the realisation that this was what Lucius had wanted all along. He had wanted to get Snape angry - to get a reaction out of him. He knew that the only way he could get what he wanted from Snape was to provoke him and make him lose control, and he knew very well that he was the only person that could do just that.

Angry and, more than anything, feeling betrayed, Snape spoke: “Get out.”

Lucius looked at him, genuine surprise on his face, finally revealing some of his true feelings. He opened his mouth to speak, but Snape stopped him.

“I said, get out.” His voice was ice cold, his finger pointing to the door.

Lucius kept looking at him, likely trying to find some doubt on his face, but there was none to find. Not this time. He picked up his cane from the floor, threw a final look at Snape, whose face was unmoved like age old stone, and walked out the door, his head perhaps a little lower than when he had entered the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what else to say than that I really enjoyed writing this chapter :P I hope you enjoyed reading it too! Slightly less angst, a little more anger. Who knows what the next chapter will bring?


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